In Boot's honor, pet memories

[makoti]

When the dog was 13, he started going deaf, and then his hips starting going out. He reached the point where he couldn't get up without help and even then, he was in pain. We decided to have him put to sleep. We both went to the vet, sat on the gurney with him, fed him ham (his favorite), and loved on him until he passed. The cat was depressed for several months and will sometimes sit on the hearth next to the dog's urn which has his collar on top.


I really don’t want to derail the thread for Boots, so I’ll create this one to pass on my story.
The above reminded me of my two dogs, both gone now, from a few years ago. In a very bad stretch, they both got seriously ill. One had cancer of the blood vessels, one became paralyzed in all limbs. They played and snuggled all the time. They were really bonded. The one with Cancer, Brackets, was fading fast when I had to take the other, Damsel, in for an MRI. She had a serious spinal issue and needed immediate surgery. Had to leave her for the night so they could do it. I had already decided to let Brackets go, and it turned out to be the same day as her surgery, so I had one dog I was putting down and one in surgery she might not recover from.
I’m in the vet’s office with Brackets, making the final decision, and the vet leaves to get what he needs to do it. I put Brackets on the floor, he walks over to the door, stands there and looks at me, and I knew, I just knew he wasn’t ready to go. Vet comes in and I tell him, sorry, we can’t. He’s not ready.

I went straight from the vet to the surgery place to get Damsel, who came through it and needs a few weeks to recover. When in the car, Brackets ALWAYS sat up front with me, even if Damsel was in the car. Not this time. She was in her crate, in the back, and he immediately jumped out of the front seat and laid next to her crate for the entire hour drive. Would not leave her. Head resting on her crate while she slept inside.

It took her about a month to recover enough to walk. He was right there. Six weeks after her surgery, he finally gave in and I had to let him go, but he was not leaving until he knew she was ok.
After his death, Damsel almost died from grief. She stopped drinking anything. Stopped eating. Barely moved. It took a few weeks of that before she started to perk up a little, but for months after a walk, she would run into the house and turn around to look for him chasing her in.

I never had dogs that committed to each other, and they’d only known each other maybe 3 years.