For anyone whom I offended through my rant of last week, I do apologize. There was a lot of fluff and spouting (it's the Irish in me) and there should've been a lot more, "think before you speak" going on. After being unkindly blase and heartless about our situation with Carlos, it looks as if the time is coming that we will say goodbye. And I am crying in my kitchen, suddenly overcome by emotion.
My husband and Carlos have been together longer than we have been a couple, which is over 10 years. They've traveled all over the country together, on plane and automobile. They've climbed up and down mountains, gone fishing and camping, and rarely been apart since Pete rescued him in 1996. Carlos was one of a litter of puppies who had been abused and found in a basement, then taken to the rescue shelter. Pete took him and loved him and turned him into the best dog I've ever known. He played Frisbee and catch with such a relentless passion, it is probably the way that most people will remember him. For that, and the way he loved Pete, unconditionally, and in spite of others.
When I went out to Summit County, CO to visit Pete in August of 1997, Carlos was none too pleased with my presence. He lost his shotgun post in the car and his sleeping post, as well, and while he did go everywhere with us, he hated sharing Pete. And has ever since, which is why we've had such a love-hate relationship. Every time we'd get out of the car and leave Carlos, we'd come back to find a huge deposit of poop on the passenger seat. Even then, he could use his excrement as a weapon. But I loved and love Carlos, as he was my baby before we had kids. We'd spend lots of time together...and when we got Seamus, another shelter dog, in 1999, Carlos had a friend for life. And after Pete, I worry about what Seamus will do without his best friend.
About three years ago, he suddenly became blind and started having accidents. He was diagnosed with diabetes and was so sick. Since then, we've given him two shots of insulin every day and fed him on a strict regimen. We have truly done our best, but are admittedly restrained by finances in terms of what we can continue to do for him. I've been running out of steam - big time - trying to care for him and clean up after him, while maintaining a somewhat smooth-running household. And it is hard to do that with another dog and three children.
So Pete is finally, I think, starting to deal with the inevitable and the fact that it is closer than he once hoped. And I feel horrible for him. Because saying good bye to this dog will be like saying good bye to his best friend, and the most constant, loyal companion he's ever known. I feel like a total shithead for having gotten so angry lately, and told him so yesterday. I guess I've just needed to vent, thinking that putting him down wasn't going to happen anytime soon, so I had to get out my frustration at the circumstances. But now I know that sometime soon, we will be making a very difficult decision, and I will feel regretful for having shot off my big mouth with unkind words and lack of patience and love. And while I've given him his shots, and fed him and cleaned up after him, I have done it begrudgingly many times, especially lately. And for that I am truly sorry. To him and to my kids, who I've taught to be unkind and impatient where ailing animals are concerned. It's shameful.
I don't know when this whole thing will happen, because I still don't know how you go about making this decision with any degree of certainty that you are doing what's right...what are the factors you evaluate? Why can't there be an objective test, like if you answer "yes" to three out of five questions, you get your answer as to what you are supposed to do? In any event, I am committed to being more patient for the remainder of his life with us, because he and Pete both deserve that. And so do my kids. God, I've been such a shit lately. A sadly selfish shithead. Hopefully, things will take whatever course they are fated to take and we'll know what's right as the moments, tough as they may be, come and go.
My husband and Carlos have been together longer than we have been a couple, which is over 10 years. They've traveled all over the country together, on plane and automobile. They've climbed up and down mountains, gone fishing and camping, and rarely been apart since Pete rescued him in 1996. Carlos was one of a litter of puppies who had been abused and found in a basement, then taken to the rescue shelter. Pete took him and loved him and turned him into the best dog I've ever known. He played Frisbee and catch with such a relentless passion, it is probably the way that most people will remember him. For that, and the way he loved Pete, unconditionally, and in spite of others.
When I went out to Summit County, CO to visit Pete in August of 1997, Carlos was none too pleased with my presence. He lost his shotgun post in the car and his sleeping post, as well, and while he did go everywhere with us, he hated sharing Pete. And has ever since, which is why we've had such a love-hate relationship. Every time we'd get out of the car and leave Carlos, we'd come back to find a huge deposit of poop on the passenger seat. Even then, he could use his excrement as a weapon. But I loved and love Carlos, as he was my baby before we had kids. We'd spend lots of time together...and when we got Seamus, another shelter dog, in 1999, Carlos had a friend for life. And after Pete, I worry about what Seamus will do without his best friend.
About three years ago, he suddenly became blind and started having accidents. He was diagnosed with diabetes and was so sick. Since then, we've given him two shots of insulin every day and fed him on a strict regimen. We have truly done our best, but are admittedly restrained by finances in terms of what we can continue to do for him. I've been running out of steam - big time - trying to care for him and clean up after him, while maintaining a somewhat smooth-running household. And it is hard to do that with another dog and three children.
So Pete is finally, I think, starting to deal with the inevitable and the fact that it is closer than he once hoped. And I feel horrible for him. Because saying good bye to this dog will be like saying good bye to his best friend, and the most constant, loyal companion he's ever known. I feel like a total shithead for having gotten so angry lately, and told him so yesterday. I guess I've just needed to vent, thinking that putting him down wasn't going to happen anytime soon, so I had to get out my frustration at the circumstances. But now I know that sometime soon, we will be making a very difficult decision, and I will feel regretful for having shot off my big mouth with unkind words and lack of patience and love. And while I've given him his shots, and fed him and cleaned up after him, I have done it begrudgingly many times, especially lately. And for that I am truly sorry. To him and to my kids, who I've taught to be unkind and impatient where ailing animals are concerned. It's shameful.
I don't know when this whole thing will happen, because I still don't know how you go about making this decision with any degree of certainty that you are doing what's right...what are the factors you evaluate? Why can't there be an objective test, like if you answer "yes" to three out of five questions, you get your answer as to what you are supposed to do? In any event, I am committed to being more patient for the remainder of his life with us, because he and Pete both deserve that. And so do my kids. God, I've been such a shit lately. A sadly selfish shithead. Hopefully, things will take whatever course they are fated to take and we'll know what's right as the moments, tough as they may be, come and go.
posted by Kate @ 8:06 AM
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