Farewell, Bert -- 16 years of companionship

Our dog, Bert, is no longer with us.

Monday, taking Bert on his final trip to the vet, is all a blur.

On Sunday, the day before, he was VERY lethargic, and getting him up to go outside was a major effort, I had to pull rather hard on his leash to get him to get up. On Monday, he was even worse.

I had an early morning retinologist appointment, which went as well as could be expected, BTW, but as soon as we got back, we knew we had to take him in to the vet, probably for the final time.

So on the way home, I called the vet and made the appointment. They asked if I wanted the vet to look him over once, just to see if there was something, and I said sure, so we set the appointment for 11 AM.

When we got home, I called our son Chad and told him what we were going to do and asked if he wanted to go to the vet with us. After all, Bert was supposedly HIS dog, Chad picked him out of the Humane Society kennel in Gulfport.

Chad said he couldn't get away from work, but what I believe I heard was that he was too emotionally distraught to face it right then. Just as we were pulling out of the driveway at 10:30, Chad called and said he'd changed his mind and he was on the way. So I said we'd meet him at the Kangaroo gas station. And we did. It was a very poignant moment for us all. Except Bert, of course, who just lay there and looked tired and mildly interested, and enjoyed all the petting he got.

We got to the vet and I was holding Bert as we sat on the bench and waited. He started to struggle, and we thought he was just anxious about being at the Vet. I should have known better, because a few seconds later he peed on the floor. Fortunately, I was holding him just the right way that it didn't get on me.

I took him outside then (too late) but he took care of a bit more business, and when we got back inside, the vet called us pretty soon after that.

The vet examined him, and she said the lymphoma had indeed invaded his chest, and yes, it was time to put him down. She was a very caring vet, about 30 years old (?), and she got tears in her eyes too, when she told us this.

She asked if we wanted to be with him at the end and I looked at Jan and she nodded, so the vet and her assistant took Bert away for a few minutes to put in an IV catheter, then brought him back and set him on the table. He was looking around, just mildly interested, very tired, not at all frightened.

What a blessing it is for animals not to be aware of their own mortality; they just live in the moment. They don't rue the past or dread (or anticipate) the future.

Then the vet injected the sedative (thiopentol?) into the catheter and Bert lay down his head and went to sleep, then he was gone.

He was either 15 or 16 years old. I thought we got him in 1994, but when watching a home video of him as a puppy the date was 1995, so I could be wrong.

In any case, he had a full dog's life, and he was a lot smarter than the oak tree in our front yard. He was a mess, he smelled bad (he thought he smelled great), and he occasionally committed unspeakable stains on the carpet, but he was a good and loving companion for all our family for many years. We will miss him.

****************************************

Added later: about three weeks later, we got a sympathy card from the veterinary clinic, signed by the entire staff. It was very nice, very touching. They really do care.