When I told my dad the cost to have the eye removed (after I had already spent money trying to medicate it and save the eye) he said: "I think you need to put the dog down." My immediate response was: Why? He's fine otherwise. My dad said: "He's not fine. He's old." Miffed, I responded that my dad was old as well but no one was talking about putting him down. Why would he even suggest such a thing?
So I made the choice to spend the money on this dog (despite our current need for a termite treatment and foundation repair, not to mention the impending arrival of our second child - all which need significant funds). Why? Does it make the dog love me more? Does he know or understand the choice? Will he be a better dog and stop marking his territory in the house or not growl at the other dogs when they come near his food? No. No, he'll continue to be the same dog he has been, minus an eye.
He'll continue to drive my husband crazy with his whining to be let inside not 5 minutes after we've let him out. He'll continue to spend most of the day sleeping and snoring. He'll continue to snub his food unless we put wet food in the bowl, after which, he'll gobble it down. He'll continue to sleep in bed with us, on my husband's side. He'll continue to wag his tail when we come home and get excited when I put a leash on him (even though he can't make it very far for a walk.) In other words, he will continue his life as usual.
The consideration for his quality of life was foremost in my mind but ultimately, that's not why I did it. I did it because he is family. He has been my family for close to 15 years. He has been with me through heartbreaks and celebrations. We have cuddled together during freak cold front during a camping trip and splashed in the river during the summer heat. We've moved from many apartments and traveled the roads of I-35 on several long hauls. We have buried his sister/litter mate together. We've dealt with a lot, he and I. He deserves, at the very least, to be taken care of to the best of my abilities. That's the promise I made to him when I became his owner.
Believe me, I haven't always held up my end of the bargain. There are many times I worked longer hours or spent time out when he could have used my attention. He wasn't ever mad at me about my failings. I forever had another chance to do better. He was just happy to be with me which says a lot. Not even my husband is happy to be with me all the time.
I love this old dog - this old dog I still consider to be my baby. Given the choice over and over again, I would never choose differently. Its only money. Its not like I'll stop working and I certainly can't take it with me when I go.
I would have 1000 regrets about ending his life too soon. He will go one day, sooner rather than later, and I hope God sees it fit to be a quick, painless passing for both of us. But (to quote Gladiator), not yet...not yet.
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| Cactus Jack, the one-eyed pug. |
