02/04/2020
Several weeks ago, a friend of mine helped me say goodbye to my old girl, Dorothy Parker. She was 19, and her death was one of the most peaceful I've seen.
I spoke with my friend beforehand, gave her the vet and crematory phone numbers, wrote out blank checks, and went over her duties. She was to answer the door, bring the vet up to the room, handle my other dog, and generally be in charge of logistics so I could spend those last minutes with my dog. Once te crematory person arrived, I left the room and she handled that part, as well as removed certain things from my sight - bowl, blankie, etc. She was informed and ready to go when I said it was "the day".
The day came. I called my friend and said to put our plans in to action. She got back to me and told me what time the vet would arrive. I didn't have to do anything else. It was all taken care of. I'll never be able to thank my friend enough for that day.
While waiting for the housecall vet, DP and I spent time in her favorite place - our bed - and I fed her chocolate and tripe and a few other treats. She went wild for chocolate, but, of course, was never allowed to have any. She got 2 whole bars that day.
She died in our bed, where she slept and cuddled and reigned for so long. She was in my arms, and showed no signs of anxiety or discomfort during the process. She got a sedation injection, went gradually and easily to a nice sleep, and then got the euthanasia serum. Her body did not fight it at all. Her heart stopped quickly, her body let out a sigh, and she was gone.
I am at peace with the decisions I made for her. I am at peace with her death.
I'm not at peace with her not being at my side. None of them live long enough. But I was lucky to spend almost 20 years with her, and this was our final, loving interaction. It was my gift to her.