We had to put down our old dog today. She H’s dog, long before we met, and she was a great dog. Good with the kids, fantastic with my little doxie, and big enough that people were scared of her.
I felt so bad, because H took her into the vet, and then came home without her. She hadn’t intended to do that (of course) but the vet found a mass, aspirated it, and diagnosed her with cancer. I wish H had called so she didn’t have to do this alone, but she was her dog, and the decision was totally hers.
Our doxie is a bit freaked out, both by her best bud’s absence and the royal treatment she’s been getting all afternoon. New collar, new bed, hanging out with the kids.
The kids are still a bit oblivious. J did scream the dog’s name when H came home with just her collar and leash. Which is weird because she usually just calls both the dogs “dog-dog”.
It’s just sad here today.