On Tuesday morning, as I lay in bed holding Teeger close to my chest, I wondered what I could say to him, to ease his feelings and fear, as the two of us knew he was dying. I remembered that when he was a young little guy, he'd sneaked away from my wife, in the front room, and come into the bedroom and crawl up next to me while I watching the Lakers, Dodgers, or Rams. Over the years, the bedroom was truly our man cave, right up to the end!
During commercials, or when my teams were winning big, or losing badly, I'd whisper softly in his ear, my personal versions of those age-old fairy tales, but with Teeger as the central figure. The stories I'd tell him included things like, "Little Red Teegerhood" or "Teeger and Gretal" or even "Teeger, and the two Little Pigs!"
Over the years, I never really knew if he liked the stories, but because he remained near my chest with his little ear pointed in the direction of my voice, I figured he either enjoyed them, or tolerated them because of his undying love and loyalty to me. I always chose to think he thoroughly enjoyed the stories, and who wouldn't?
So the other night (actually early morning) as we waited for the vet to arrive at his office, so we could have him come to our home to help Teeger make his way from this life to the Mansion Jesus went to prepare for our family, in heaven, I pulled him close to my chest and softly whispered into his ear, what would be the very last time he'd hear those special stories!
As I shared with him, I also gently rocked him, as my wife and I found that rocking motion seemed to help him be less agitated with the ongoing seizures, he was experiencing each time his medications wore off.
What some of you may see as an oddity, came to my attention as I felt an ever so small, warm drop of moisture hit my bare, right biceps. As I continued to speak quietly to him, I felt a few more drops, and as I looked down at his precious little face, not missing a beat with the tales I was sharing with him, it was suddenly evident that coming from his eyes, were little puppy tears. In an effort to not wake or disturb him, I reached for the clump of tissues I'd been using to wipe away my tears, and gently dabbed his tears, too!
Teeger and I both knew that this would be the last few hours we'd have to spend together on this earth and in this life, and I knew that he knew, that the decision to help him leave through euthanasia, was the right one, but also the hardest one I'd ever make in this life. It was evident to both my wife and myself, that he was struggling with all he had left within him to hold on to what little bit of life and dignity and loyalty and love he left; so helping him leave us was the only humane thing I could do for my little friend.
His little puppy tears were also a sign that saying good-bye was just as difficult for him as it was for me and my wife. Being a part of your pet's life for so many years (in our case - eighteen and five months) is nothing to sneeze at. It was as love bound as any we'd have with another human, and while parting may have been inevitable, it was not without deep emotional groaning on the hearts of all of us that morning! :tear:
So, the next time you find yourself and your beloved pet is at heaven's door, remember that if you had a rich, full life with them, you can be sure that they are having as hard a time saying good-bye, as you and I! :type:
Hello to, all my friends on the board. While I'm not officially back, I had to share with you the sorrow my wife, and I just went through as we lost our dog (he was 18 years old and change) on Tuesday. On top of this, just 9 days earlier, we lost of second cat in a period of less than four months. The pain of losing one pet, who you spent 18 loving years with was bad enough, but to lose two more pets, tight on top of each other (both of them were 18 years old too) was a little more than it seemed I could bear, until I started to receive the blessings of others who prayed for my wife and I.
I am going to continue to take a respite from the board, as I have thoroughly enjoyed the peace of not having to be caught up in turmoil with others because of something, I say. So, while I am still just a cyber tap away from you, I am going to remain on this self-induced hiatus.
During commercials, or when my teams were winning big, or losing badly, I'd whisper softly in his ear, my personal versions of those age-old fairy tales, but with Teeger as the central figure. The stories I'd tell him included things like, "Little Red Teegerhood" or "Teeger and Gretal" or even "Teeger, and the two Little Pigs!"
Over the years, I never really knew if he liked the stories, but because he remained near my chest with his little ear pointed in the direction of my voice, I figured he either enjoyed them, or tolerated them because of his undying love and loyalty to me. I always chose to think he thoroughly enjoyed the stories, and who wouldn't?
So the other night (actually early morning) as we waited for the vet to arrive at his office, so we could have him come to our home to help Teeger make his way from this life to the Mansion Jesus went to prepare for our family, in heaven, I pulled him close to my chest and softly whispered into his ear, what would be the very last time he'd hear those special stories!
As I shared with him, I also gently rocked him, as my wife and I found that rocking motion seemed to help him be less agitated with the ongoing seizures, he was experiencing each time his medications wore off.
What some of you may see as an oddity, came to my attention as I felt an ever so small, warm drop of moisture hit my bare, right biceps. As I continued to speak quietly to him, I felt a few more drops, and as I looked down at his precious little face, not missing a beat with the tales I was sharing with him, it was suddenly evident that coming from his eyes, were little puppy tears. In an effort to not wake or disturb him, I reached for the clump of tissues I'd been using to wipe away my tears, and gently dabbed his tears, too!
Teeger and I both knew that this would be the last few hours we'd have to spend together on this earth and in this life, and I knew that he knew, that the decision to help him leave through euthanasia, was the right one, but also the hardest one I'd ever make in this life. It was evident to both my wife and myself, that he was struggling with all he had left within him to hold on to what little bit of life and dignity and loyalty and love he left; so helping him leave us was the only humane thing I could do for my little friend.
His little puppy tears were also a sign that saying good-bye was just as difficult for him as it was for me and my wife. Being a part of your pet's life for so many years (in our case - eighteen and five months) is nothing to sneeze at. It was as love bound as any we'd have with another human, and while parting may have been inevitable, it was not without deep emotional groaning on the hearts of all of us that morning! :tear:
So, the next time you find yourself and your beloved pet is at heaven's door, remember that if you had a rich, full life with them, you can be sure that they are having as hard a time saying good-bye, as you and I! :type:
Hello to, all my friends on the board. While I'm not officially back, I had to share with you the sorrow my wife, and I just went through as we lost our dog (he was 18 years old and change) on Tuesday. On top of this, just 9 days earlier, we lost of second cat in a period of less than four months. The pain of losing one pet, who you spent 18 loving years with was bad enough, but to lose two more pets, tight on top of each other (both of them were 18 years old too) was a little more than it seemed I could bear, until I started to receive the blessings of others who prayed for my wife and I.
I am going to continue to take a respite from the board, as I have thoroughly enjoyed the peace of not having to be caught up in turmoil with others because of something, I say. So, while I am still just a cyber tap away from you, I am going to remain on this self-induced hiatus.