Letting Go






I wasn’t going to write about this, then I realized that it would be disrespectful not to, since you all have been so unutterably kind and supportive of me, through all my travails, as I post them here on the Posse.   So.  It’s painful to write this and I know I’m going to harsh your day but, last Wednesday we let our baby boy, Carmine, go.   It was definitely time – Tuesday afternoon he stopped eating or drinking anything, so I couldn’t get any pain meds down him and the idea of cancer + no pain meds is totally unacceptable to me.  Plus, c’mon….dogs LOVE to eat.  The day Carmine wouldn’t take a lick of vanilla yogurt off his dad’s finger was the day I knew he was ready to move on.    We scheduled his transition for Wednesday after closing so he wouldn’t have to go into the exam room (a very thoughtful move on their part – Michelle knows how much he hated that exam room and didn’t want him freaked out).  We sedated him (something I wholeheartedly recommend, should your terminal pet be systemically healthy, as Carmine was; it prevents them from fighting the effects of anesthesia, which is a natural reaction.  Normally  not a big thing in general surgery, but when you are helping your pet out of this world, seeing them in that natural struggle can be emotionally devastating.  You don’t need any more pain that you are already going through so if your vet suggests it, please go with it. )……after walking around the room, sniffing every last bit of dog effluvia, he got snoozy and came and laid down on his sheet.  I scooched up next to him and ….then the loveliest thing happened:  he, normally not the snuggly kind, scooched a little bit closer and put his head on my chest, filling my whole heart with warmth.   I held him, gently (so as not to hurt his face and neck, where the cancer was) and ‘shhhsh’d’ him as we sent him into blessed quietness.    I suspect the shhhshing was for me….    I held him a little while longer, kissed his head, then I wrapped him up in his ‘blankie’.   They were very, very kind about my controlling ways and just let me issue commands, bless their hearts.  And they were so, so very sweetly firm about not letting me Be Me (I wanted to pick him up and carry his body to the back.  A crazier plan hasn’t been thought of, unless he’d been a Giant Mastiff.  Seriously.  He weighed 110lbs and, not to be too dark about it, was at that point the embodiment of ‘dead weight’ (hey, if I can laugh you can, too).  How they dissuaded me is still a mystery – Bear stayed mum  because when I Get Like That I can be a bit daunting.  But somehow, those little women? (not one of them bigger than Carmine) they got me to leave him there, covered, so they could move him after I left.  Such patience.  Such kindness.

I consider myself well and truly blessed, to have been able to have the privilege of providing this last, best service to my dog.   I feel a sense of loss, of course, but I also feel a sense of joy.  And I feel a real sense of gratitude that I was given those three weeks to say goodbye.  And that I had the luxury to make the decision to let him go.  So many of us are denied any or all of those options when our loved ones, both people and pets, go.   I’m not sad, truly I’m not.  I’m having to adjust in weird ways (the walks always catch me by surprise; I walked them separately and it feels weird to know I don’t have to hasten back to walk another dog), but that’s part of our New Normal.  The little dog is adjusting, too; he’s a scrappy, resilient survivor and he’s a ‘live in the moment’ dog – it’s a true pleasure to see him racing through the snow drifts, alight in the joy of living!  I’m slowly getting used to seeing him in his room, solo.  He just looks so tiny.  But he’s getting ‘fine’ and I am, too.

And I am fine.  Truly.  Those of you who know me well know that Taking Care (aka Controlling the Situation) is important for me.  Keeping my covenant with my dog, to see him through, was paramount.  To know I was able to let him go, as gently as possible,  because it was best for HIM, even though it hurt like knives, is all the consolation I need.

I wore vintage Chanel No5 to help him out of this world.  The next day I wore Amouage Gold, then that evening I showered and put on the No5 again.  I always equate those two scents with joy and I still do.  Losing a loved one is painful but letting them go, releasing them from pain, is an honor, a joyous honor.  The scent-memories I equate with No5 and Gold are cherished ones, the memories of duty fulfilled, a covenant kept, honor…and, most of all, of love.


and, in case  I don’t say it often enough?  You all bring ME joy.  I know there are so many of you with far greater challenges that I faced here – yet each day you show up, full of caring for our little family here.  I hope you know that we really do care about you all.  We do mourn your losses as well as we rejoice in your happiness.  And we do appreciate that you care enough to care about us!!!!!  xoxo

  • Michelle says:

    Beautiful post, Musette. You have such an amazing gift of writing true, and I feel so blessed to partake in the laughter and tears.

  • Liz K says:

    My sincere condolences. I had to wait until I wasn’t at work to finish reading your post as I am insanely sensitive on the subject of pets and was making patients and co-workers tear up in sympathy. Thank you for being a loving and responsible pet parent.

  • Hot tears as I read this. Big lump in my throat. So glad your vet’s office are kind and patient people. Of course they are; they love animals. Big hugs and kisses for you and the little dog.

    • Musette says:

      QC, my vet people are stunningly fabulous, lovely people – both as animal people and just plain ol’ ‘people’. I adore them all. I can be EXTREMELY trying – never rude or improper in my behavior but…..well…. (imagine the Dowager Countess and Godzilla had a child, fashioned out of mercury. Yeah, that)….they are just so damn…..patient. I’ve been there when they’ve had to do it for others, so I know it’s a genuine thing with them – they really do care.

      Hugs and kisses right back, sweetie!


  • Portia says:

    WWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! How are you so strong.
    Portia xx

    • Musette says:

      You and I both know it’s easier to be strong now rather than regret later. Weird comparison but I’d rather rip that bandage right the hell off than ooch it off, mm by mm, at 2am.

      HUGs right back at you, my dearest! xoxoxoA

  • edpgypsy says:

    Awe, so sorry, Musette. Dealing with something like this is always in the back of your mind as a pet owner and it saddens me to hear the news. I am happy to that you are doing well though.
    *~Hugs to you!~*

    • Musette says:

      thanks, edp! It’s always there, I think, with anything or anyone we love. But it’s part of Life, so we do what we must. We’re doing just fine, though the Baby wishes his brother were still here to manipulate me into early feeding. The Baby lacks that power, alas. He’s stuck with 5pm and that’s that! 😀


  • Hugs to you, Musette. I’m so sorry for your loss. We will all miss seeing his adorably grumpy face in your posts. 🙂 I’m sorry you didn’t get more time with him, but I’m glad you were able to ease him out of this world with such love and compassion.

  • Brooke says:

    Musette, you are such a beautiful person, in so many ways. Even during tough times, you see the positive and work through it. I am so sorry about Carmine but both of you were so lucky to have each other. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I want to come back as one of your pets!

  • Mary K says:

    I was sorry to learn of Carmine’s passing, but you did the right thing and gave him comfort right through to the end of things. He was lucky to have a loving mom like you who cared about him and always did the right thing for him. No matter how many pets we have as we go through life, we always remember each and every one and when they are gone we recall our good times that we had with them and all the funny things that they did. Carmine is in doggie heaven now and will forever know how much you loved him.

    • Musette says:

      Mary K, thank you for those sweet words – they really do mean a lot. Your comments reminded me that TOMATO season is coming up – omg! Who is going to steal all my tomatoes, now that he’s gone? (2 years ago he very quietly took Every Last Yellow Tomato off the staging table on the porch. Every single one. Took us forever to figure out what happened because….who would suspect a giant Rottweiler would have a thing for yellow tomatoes? ) xoxoxoA

  • kizzers says:

    So,so sorry to hear this, Musette. So glad you got that snuggle, they always find a way to say thank-you xxx

  • poodletwins says:

    Im so sorry to hear of Carmine’s passing…He was surrounded by pure love and gentleness and he knew it, im sure. My two maltipoos, Marshall and Macloud, are sending you a hug right now!

  • wefadetogray says:

    I feel for you so much. I have been in your position and I was not as wise as you are. It took me years to recover. It is so sweet how you wore no5 to help ease the transition. Stay strong!

    all the best to you!!!

    • Musette says:

      wefade, I haven’t always had the ability to be this wise. Remembering some of my early errors breaks my heart but I take solace in the knowledge that those errors have made me a better mom down the line. Sadly, that’s so often part of Life. Sucks. Take heart that you did what you could with the knowledge you had. xoxoxoxoxoA

  • Sherri says:

    I am so, so sorry to hear about Carmine! He was so blessed to be loved by you. I will never forget the look in my 16 year old Siamese cat’s eyes when I had to have her put down. All that love and that trust…I will never forget that as long as I live, but there come a point when it is a blessing for them to be out of their suffering…Carmine was lucky you were there for him right up to the very end. Lots of hugs your way…

    • Musette says:

      Your girl gave you that look of love and trust because she knew you would do right by her – and you did. She, too, was blessed to be loved – by you. xoxoxoA

  • mim says:

    Thank you for sharing this part of your life with us all. Still sniffling a bit. I am sorry for your loss and glad you had the chance to say goodbye and hold him one last time (my black lab Lady passed away of cancer when I was 12, and to this day I still get sad because I didn’t feel like I said goodbye). Glad you are able to feel that you did right by him for the whole time you were together, and that your new normal is going okay. Best wishes to all of you.

    • Musette says:

      Give your 12yr old self a break 🙂 I am happy I was given the chance to do what I did – but it could’ve just as easily gone some other way (one of my girls died in the middle of the night). I think I was given a supreme gift – but it’s what we do each day that really matters. Your 12 yr old self loved her every day, I’m sure of it.


  • Nemo says:

    Thank you for sharing your stories about Carmine. It sounds like he had a relatively peaceful and painless end, and he had you there to cuddle with so how much more can we really ask for? And don’t forget all the hotdogs…I am so sorry for your loss, but glad that you were able to have so many joyful times with your four-legged friend.

  • Tiara says:

    So sorry to hear he’s gone, but so glad you were able to send him on his way so peacefully. Now I must go get a tissue.

  • Janice says:

    I’m sitting here at work crying like a baby, but also so glad that you were able to share this with us. What a loving thing you both did for him… That is a wonderful way to look at it, a covenant kept and a joyous honor. Take care.

  • Edward G says:

    With tears in my eyes, and a lump in my throat, I offer my sincere condolences. You were both lucky to have had each other. If I wasn’t writing this at work, I would pick up my cat, Tommy, and give him a big hug (as I always do). Thank you for sharing your story.

    • Musette says:

      So hug Tommy twice when you get home, okay? Once for you, once for me! 😀 xoxoxoxoA

      and thank you for your condolences – they are very much appreciated.

  • Lynne Marie says:

    Oh, Musette, my heart breaks for you! I know it was hard to write, but we are so blessed that you were willing to share this with us, you have immeasurably helped those of us who will have to confront this kind of pain with our own four-legged family members. Thank you. I hope you are consoled by the fact that as much as you loved Carmine, he was able to show you at the end that he knew he was loved and he loved you just as well. What more can any of us ask for? Sending you hugs and waves of comfort!

  • eldarwen22 says:

    I’m sorry for your loss of Carmine, it always sucks to lose a pet.

  • tammy says:

    I didn’t know what to say when I read this last night and I still don’t, other than I am in awe that you can write so beautifully when your heart has a rottie-sized hole in it. So like you to comfort US with your post. Thank you for letting us know and sharing your beautiful heart with us. Hugs.

    • Musette says:

      you know, I thought writing this would hurt – and it sort of did, of course – but it also gave me some peace. Thank you for being here for me.


  • Musette, I’m so sorry for your loss and at the same time inspired by the loving, kind, and very mindful way you escorted your beautiful four-legged friend out of this life.

  • Dina C. says:

    Thank you so much for sharing the end of your journey with Carmine with us, Anita. You have undoubtedly reminded many people how to be responsible, mature, loving and compassionate not only in their dealings with terminal pets, but with terminal people too. God bless you for that. And may He comfort you and heal you each and every day. I feel for you deeply. I helped my one and only pet, a white cat named Punkie, make that final journey in a similar fashion about 20 years ago. And my dad died of cancer 22 years ago, and that involved saying good-bye and letting him go as well. It’s the tremendous and awe-full price we pay for loving another one of God’s creatures, be they human or animal, so very much. I have immense respect for your willingness to go through this and write about it. Sending you long-distance hugs…(((musette)))

  • jirish says:

    I am so sorry that you had to let your baby go so soon, but I’m happy that his end was as peaceful and loving as it was. You are right that we are lucky that we can control the end our animal babies face – I wish we could offer the same kindness to people. My mother died last year of cancer, which had gone to her spinal fluid, causing encephalitis, causing great pain, blindness, and hallucinations. There were many times I thought that had she been a dog or a cat she would have been treated more humanely, even though I know the hospice people were doing the best they could.

    • Musette says:

      oh, jirish…my heart goes out to you. I can’t imagine how painful that must’ve been for you. My sincere condolences.


  • Carol S says:

    beautifully written , proudly done , sadly read . (((HUGS)))

  • Ncmyers says:

    He was a good boy. Take care of yourself.

  • Gentiana says:

    I am so very sorry for this… I know what it means and how it hurts…. I wish you find peace and comfort… It is hard to forget, as I never will forget Pip and Foxy.

    • Musette says:

      I wish you peace as well, dear Gentiana. and he will never be forgotten, any more than your babies will be. They are in our hearts forever.


  • missyl says:

    I am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend! Your post was a beautiful tribute to love .. And a reminder (to me )to cherish the days we have with loved ones..
    Blessings to you.

    • Musette says:

      Yes. We all need to be present in the moment. Sometimes harder than we might like but we need to try – because there are no guarantees.


  • Jackie b says:

    Thank you for telling us about the final chapter, it sounds like an experience you will look back on with peace in your heart.
    Love from Oz

    • Musette says:

      I am already at peace, Jackie – holding him through his final moments gave me that peace. And you’re right – I will keep that in my heart forever.


  • sweetharmony8 says:

    I am so happy you both got those last few weeks together. I am sure Carmine thought he had already went to doggie heaven! I have only ever lost one dog, but in rescuing I have let many go to their new homes, and it’s always hard. But I have found that it is always for a reason. Somewhere, I am sure, there is another fur-baby that needs your love and compassion, and when the time is right, you’ll find them.

    • Musette says:

      May I just say ‘thank you’ for your rescue work? That is such important work to do – and it’s hard because you take them in and love them, knowing you’re going to have to let them go! Serious props to you, sweetharmony!


  • Suzanne says:

    Wishing you comfort, Musette. You let go of Carmine in a very beautiful way, so take comfort in that you did the right thing for him.

  • Ann says:

    I am so sorry for the loss of your wonderful friend. After we had to let my beloved Maltese go (lymphoma at 14), I took comfort in believing/knowing that anything we love truly never leaves us, but takes up new residence in our hearts where they’re with us always. God bless.

  • fanny says:

    Bless you, for sharing and for doing what you did.
    Bless you.

  • Tena says:

    I am so very sorry your sweet boy had to leave you. There comes a time where releasing our best friends are something we do for them, not to them. Sending Hugs and lots of caring thoughts.

  • poodle says:

    I am so, so sorry for your loss. I had hoped you’d get a bit more time with him. I’m glad you were able to make his end of life a stress free and painless experience. It’s hard to let them go even when you know you’re doing the right thing. It will be tough to adjust to him not being there for a while. I’m glad you have the other pup to distract you a bit. That’s much better than a completely empty house. I’m sending you a big virtual hug and some Kleenex along with kisses from the poodles and the whippet. Much love to you. Xoxox

    • Musette says:

      oh, poodle (which I always change, phonetically, to sound like ‘poo-DELL’ because I am insane like that. thank you. Smooch the poodelles for me, too – the whippet, too!!! xoxoxoA

  • zazie says:

    I send you a big hug, and a tender scratch behind the ear of your little dog…
    I’m sure carmine felt your love and has his tail waving at you, wherever he is.
    Lots of love, Z.

    • Musette says:

      He’s hanging his 110-lb self off the side of this father’s face, like he always did (it was cute when he was a baby, okay when he was a young pup – when he hit his adolescence and his size/weight shot up? Not so much). George is probably thinking ‘oh, maaaan! I thought I had a little bit more time before you came up here. Dang.’ 😀


  • masha7 says:

    I’ve been where you were and still remember the day I was with my dog when she passed (20 years ago!). After the sedation and before the last injection, she ate a chocolate bar, her favorite treat, but one she was forbidden to have because chocolate makes dogs ill. She was so happy to eat that chocolate and I think it was her final memory, chocolate with no tummy ache….You did a good thing, and love never dies. I’m hugging you big-time in my heart right now.

    • Musette says:

      I’m LOLing through my snifflies, Masha! When a friend found out I was giving him oatmeal and canned Gravy Train she exclaimed, in horror, ‘oh! that’s not very healthy AT ALL!!!’. Bless her heart. I gave her a few beats to Figure It Out. She did. Mortification, then hilarity, ensued.


  • thinkingmagpie says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss… but you know, you gave him a great comfort, and what’s more, so much love. Over the years I had to say goodbye to many furry bundles of love… It’s always been hard but after all these years I can still feel their love and joy they’d given me as a part of myself. Take care.

  • jilliecat says:

    What can I say? Except that you were so lucky to have him, and he you. All my love.

  • Glannys says:

    I am really sorry for your loss. You loved him and did everything possible for him; and, obviously, he knew and appreciated it.

  • Tom says:

    I just wish I was there to give you a big hug and some chicken and waffles.

    I got a call from my BFF of 35 years that one of hers has been diagnosed She’s devastated but plans on keeping her as comfortable as possible until the time comes to end it. That’s what pet parents have to face, I guess. I admire your strength in keeping this about Carmine. I know my friend will do the same.

    • Musette says:

      I would happily say YES! to all 3. But I would rather come to you, if that’s okay? Pretty sick of Central IL 😀

      Your poor friend will do the right thing by her baby. And I know you will give her all the support she needs!


  • SallyM says:

    Dear Musette, my heart goes out to you, having just sent my dear little Willow cat across the Rainbow Bridge a couple of months ago. Like you, I had a couple of weeks after she was diagnosed with cancer and made the same decision – when she stopped eating and drinking, I knew it was Time. (she was quite the roly-poly and LOVED to eat!). The vet came to the house and I sat on the bed where she slept and held her while they administered the shots. You are right – sedation is a must as it calms them when they know things aren’t quite right. Our vet was fantastic too – let me hold her for as long as I needed to afterwards and made not one judgment about the amount of tears I shed during the process. I miss her little face daily. But as you so astutely pointed out, it was for her that we chose to do this – we were offered surgery, chemo, blah blah – I just couldn’t put her through that. I didn’t want to go through the death process but knew I had to – as her friend I owed it to her to be there.
    I admire your courage in choosing this for your beloved Carmine and even more so, for sharing it with us here.

    • Musette says:

      Sally, my heart goes out to you. And I’m so happy you were able to be there for Willow (and, though it sounds presumptuous, proud of you). My vet and I discussed all those options and since not one of them had a snowball’s chance in hell of doing anything more than making him miserable for a slightly longer period of time, I said no as well.

      I always stay in the room until my dogs are ‘under’ for surgery (did I mention I am controlling as hell? LOL!) I had a cat who struggled against the anesthesia for neutering – it freaked me out and that’s when I learned about the body’s disinclination to just ‘go under’ – and for those of us who have been put under for surgery remember, they sedate us first, as well. So it makes perfect sense.

      And, fwiw, my vet cried, too. xoxoxoA

  • Furriner says:

    I am so sorry for you. I know what Carmine meant to you. I am glad you are doing well. You have been through so much lately.

    • Musette says:

      Angelpie, ain’t that the truth! LOL! But continued friendship of people like you really helps sustain me. Once the weather breaks we’ll have to do a mini-Sniff!!!


  • I cry. Thank you so much, Musette, for writing about Carmine. I really hope I find people and a place as wonderful as this to bring my Miss Nikki to when the time comes, though otherwise I simply can’t think about it. Blessings to you.

    I think of you often. xoCatherine

    • Musette says:

      Honey, ‘they’ won’t matter – truly. I’ve had to do this at no fewer than 4 different vet offices. It’ll be you that matters. As long as, if it comes to a decision like that, you can be there for Miss Nikki she’ll be okay.


  • rosarita says:

    Oh my dear, my heart goes out to you. Thanks for your courage in doing the best for your beloved Carmine and sharing it with us so we can cry with you. Big hugs.

    • Musette says:

      Darling, thank you! Do you know, I never think of it as ‘courage’ – but you’re right. And I’m glad I have it. For them – and for me. xoxoxoxA

  • foxbins says:

    I am so sorry that you didn’t have a little more time with Carmine feeling okay; I’m sure you hoped he would hang around a bit longer. My deepest condolences and I am so, so, sorry. It’s always so hard to say goodbye to a much-loved member of the family.

    • Musette says:

      foxbins – it was bizarre. She gave us, at best, 30 days. I didn’t believe her. But at least I ‘heard’ her so he didn’t suffer a nanosecond longer than it took for me to recognize that he was through with being on this plane. That, in an of itself, is such a great gift.


  • Mariekel says:

    Oh god, Anita, my heart really hurts to read this. There is no pain more poignant than losing a dog. Really big hug.

    • Musette says:

      Mariekel, a really big hug right back to you! Don’t let your heart hurt too bad – as painful as this is, it is also really joyous.


  • Laurels says:

    It’s always so hard to let them go, but you seem to have given him the most peaceful goodbye possible. Our old Rott mix is suffering from worsening joint problems, but still enjoying his mealtimes and “walks,” which now are just two houses down to the corner and back. I hope that when his time comes, he goes as peacefully as your Carmine. Take care, and enjoy your little guy.

    • Musette says:

      Oh, Laurels, with you caring for him I’m sure he will. Just love him UP now…and when it’s time, if you can, hold him. As hard as it is to do, holding them as they slip away seems to help mend your heart, even as it’s breaking.

      and give your old boy a smooch for me, please!


  • einsof says:

    there’s nothing anyone can say at a moment like this… i am so happy you had the experience you did… you are right, we are often times blessed with more Care Taking (being in control of the final moments) with our four legged loved ones than we are our two legged ones. i wish you and yours ease in the transition and joy in the memories. and i will certainly be snuggling just a little closer to my own Matilda tonight as i let her soft purring lull me into sleep, and inhale the sweet scent of her that if bottled, would be the only thing i surround myself with.

    thank you for your truth, your candor and the obvious love with which you light the world.

    • Musette says:

      einsof, you put me to the blush. Please give Matilda a kiss on that snuggly little ear jointure for me (I believe that Nature made that jointure just for us to kiss!)


  • Lisa D says:

    My dear, I hope that Carmine comes to visit you in your dreams, as my Maggi does with me!

    • Musette says:

      He’s done even better, Lisa – he’s sent his father down. His father was the love of my life (Carmine was El O’s dog or, should I say, El O was Carmine’s dog. I was ‘mommy’ which is why it was okay for me to be the one to hold him at the end – but he was All About El O. Whereas his father…..oh, that was my Love Supreme. So Carmine sent him down to tell me it was all okay. Which was a lovely thing to do. How Georgie feels about his son being up there, bugging the daylights out of him, is another thing altogether !!! 😀


  • Sonia says:

    Musette, what a touching, beautiful ending and completion of his life with you. Thank you for sharing this.

  • Kandice says:

    Musette….I read this through my tears. I’m so sorry for your loss. All of us who have lost fur babies know how difficult it is to go through this with them. But there is something special and sacred in being there with them at the end. They know you love them and are doing what’s best for them, and they know they will live in our hearts forever. Be kind to yourself and your baby that’s left. Sending hugs and comfort to you.

  • I’m crying as I write this. We are so lucky to have these wonderful creatures in our lives. I hope that your love for Carmine will see you through the sadness and that someday you will allow another to enter your life. Love is never lost and only increases in the sharing. Please take care.

    • Musette says:

      Oh, honey. Sorry to have made you cry!!! Carmine is up there in the heaven that All Dogs Go To 😀 and I’m stuck with his conniving little brother! LOL!


  • Pklagrange says:

    I am so sorry. I will be thinking of you. It is very difficult to take this action, although it is compassionate. Take care of yourself and your loved ones.

  • molly l says:

    I am so sorry for your loss! Thank you for sharing your experience with us. Your strength and love that you showed for your sweet dog is very moving and inspiring. It sounds like not only did you take very good care of him in life but gave him a very loving and reassuring sendoff. It sounds like he was comfortable, and at peace and secure in your love for him. That is something beautiful in an otherwise very sad and difficult process. Thanks again for sharing.

  • Martha says:

    Bless your heart, Musette. And thank goodness for euthanasia so that our beloved animal companions can go out easy. It is a true kindness though it isn’t easy to get there. I spent a year waffling about my old dog until one day the signs were very clear that it was time for her to go. Take care.

    • Musette says:

      The one thing that does make it easier, Martha, is experience. I’ve had to do this many times and now I’m inured to my own wishes and can focus only on the dog. I think, with the first one, it’s not that simple. And euthanasia really is a gift.


  • Ann says:

    Oh, sweetie! I am so very, very sorry to hear this. But I am so glad that you were able to be with him like that at the end, and let his last hours be spent in a quiet, peaceful, loving way befitting such a loyal friend of so many years. That is such a blessing. Thank you for sharing this with us although I know it was hard. I’m not good at typing through my tears, so please just know that I am thinking of you and and sending many hugs and prayers your way.