My 11 year-old dog Smudge. Not been well for a few weeks and antibiotics led to blood tests, x-rays, and finally, a CT scan this morning.
Tumour in the stomach, an indication that lymph nodes were inflamed (spread) and a discussion around cutting it out and quality of life etc. He had not eaten anything of real substance for around three weeks and to see him shivering and unable to get up the stairs, accelerated our thinking and the most difficult of decisions.
It's so hard to come to the decision to put him to sleep, you are guided by this internal sense that it is the right thing, yet a large part of you wants him back home on the sofa - the real difference of what's right for him and what's needed for you.
The most difficult thing in this socially-distanced time is that the vet had to put him to sleep in the boot of my wife's car. In the call to us that led to us saying that we were ready, the vet inferred that he was groggy from his injection for the CT scan, but we were so shocked at how alert he was, looking at me and the wife and our two boys in the eye, no doubt thinking he was coming home. The final 5 minutes were unsettling for me, holding him, telling him, praising him. I looked up at the vet and the solution was halfway down the syringe.
There's a huge hole right now, and I can see him in every room I go in.
He was loved, and gave so much to our life. Heartbroken...
