Blondie Update

Blondie has gone to heaven.

She was deteriorating so quickly that last week my vet and I discussed the "hard decisions" she had told me earlier on I would have to make. Blondie was in pain and beginning to develop skin ulcers; her mouth was closing and she had almost stopped eating. Since any treatment, esp. for the sores, would only help temporarily, we discussed euthanasia. I couldn't let my active, happy, playful puppy become miserable and lethargic, both from the disease itself and from pain medication. She just wasn't going to get better.

Monday, we went to the vet's. She didn't come home.

She has always enjoyed her trips there; everyone adored her. So, she wasn't afraid. My best friend, Carla, came with me and Blondie enjoyed that, too. She loved her Auntie Carla. The receptionist was very kind and helped me with the paperwork in a discrete way; there were others in the waiting area. I didn't want anyone to know what was happening and she knew it.

One of the hardest parts was the lady in the waiting room. Blondie has always gotten attention from people visiting - she's a beautiful, friendly puppy. This lady was like the others. She complimented her and let Blondie sniff her hand. Then the well-meaning lady asked if she was sick.

I was already so upset; this made things worse. I managed to tell her what was wrong and explained a little about the disease. When she asked if Blondie was here for a treatment, I just said we were there to see Dr. Harman.

Soon, the vet assistant (I think Julie) came for us. She asked if I wanted to come back, and then showed us into an exam room. They have one esp. for large breed dogs where the exam table goes up and down, making it easier to get to the dog. This was the room we were always in. Blondie just sniffed around like usual.

I sang to her the little song I often did: My Blondie girl, my Blondie girl, my pretty pretty pretty pretty Blondie Girl; my Blondie girl, my Blondie girl, my pretty pretty pretty Blondie girl. My pretty pretty pretty Blondie girl. That was hard, staying calm.

After a couple minutes the doctor and Julie came back in; it wasn't Dr, Harman but the doctor who worked with her (Blondie had seen her before). Still, everything was normal for her. We got her onto the table (she was leery of it, like normal) (I suppose I can't blame her. I'd be a little leery of it, too). It was time.

She was sitting calmly (a lot more calmly than I felt but I was very careful to remain calm, so not to frighten her) and I wrapped my arms around her. The doctor gave her the shot.

Blondie slowly relaxed and lay down; I was still holding her and her head rested on my arm. I held her paw, and buried my face in her fur. I heard a little sound of movement - not Blondie but Julie stroking Blondie's flank and the doctor reaching out to hold her other paw I saw when I briefly lifted my head.

As her breathing slowed, I started to keen more than once, but was still trying so hard to remain calm. Finally the doctor checked her heart and told me it was over.

Tears streaming down my face, I managed to make it to the waiting area. As I stood at the counter where the receptionist was quietly expressing her sympathy, Carla came over to me and put her hand on my arm. I turned to her and sobbed so hard for a moment, then the storm subsided.

We went to Waffle House for a bit; I didn't want to go home just yet. We talked of normal things: work, her upcoming trip to visit her mother, her friends she was going to visit on the way.

When I got home, it was so strange. I went for my go-to calming activity: knitting. I'm working on an afghan for my Mom so I got it out. I knit for literally 5 hours, until it was time for bed.

I've been somewhat in a daze since, but my classes have kept me busy.

I still have her collar.