The Death of a Pet

I knew when my mom called me Friday night to ask me which vet I suggested she take our family dog Chloe to that it might just be the day we put her down, so I went along.  When I saw her in the front hall, walking in a circle even as she greeted me, I knew almost for certain that she probably wouldn't be coming home.  I held her in my arms, wrapped in a blanket and under the same seat belt with me the whole way to the vet, knowing that that might be her last car ride.

But still, when the vet alluded to the fact that the most humane course of action was euthanizing our family dog, I broke down in tears.

What my dad said on the car ride home has stuck with me - "I came home from work.  Now my dog is dead."  Though she was old and sick, it happened so fast it was a shock.

I haven't lived with Chloe for four years, but every time I come over she follows me around - probably because I would sneak her bananas and carrots and let her sit on the couch with me when no one was around to see.

She was blind and deaf, but still a happy dog.  In hind sight, maybe she should have had a helmet.  She was always running into walls and furniture, and the vet said it was a brain hemorrhage that was causing her to run in circles. Despite the injury, her tail started wagging when she smelt me come in Friday night to accompany my family to the vet, just in case.

This is the second pet of mine that has died in the past few months.  Back in July my bearded dragon died.  He has stopped eating and was getting very thin.  I knew it would happen any day but I was still devastated when it did.

Both this weekend, and the weekend after Mike died, I had plans that could not be canceled.  In both instances, I avoided telling friends what happened, holding it inside because I knew that I might start crying and for some reason crying over the death of a pet seems, well, lame and silly.  So I held in my tears but the moment I'm alone they fall. 

Last year I was crying a little at the reception after my grandma's funeral.  A family friend gave me an odd look and asked if I was okay.  I realized that it wasn't acceptable for me to cry anymore, so I went to the bathroom and hid in a stall until I calmed down.

The death of my grandma was horrible, but the loss of a pet isn't much better - which I know probably sounds terrible to most people.  Pets are always there waiting, they are always happy to see you, they provide a comfort that most people can't.  You connect to animals in a way completely different from humans because it is a bond devoid of lies and words, based purely on actions.  And people who don't have animals don't understand that.

The Winnipeg Humane Society holds a vigil for people who have lost pets so people can come together in a safe place to grieve.