The Waiting Is So Hard

This will sound horribly cruel at first, but I beginning to wish that my darling dog would just get it over with and die. I wake in the night and listen for her breathing. I wake up in the morning and listen for her breathing. I come home for lunch and wait to hear her collar tags jingle when I call to her from the door. When I come after work, the same thing. And every single time I have my own heart-stopping moment when I can't hear those reassuring noises quickly enough and then I freeze until I can detect some sound. She isn't sick enough yet to euthanize, but I don't want her to die alone, possibly suffering. It seems I'm just saying good-bye in inches. When she couldn't sleep on the bed with me because it was too soft, it was days before I could sleep through the night. I wasn't used to having the whole bed to myself. Our walks now last only minutes when we used to walk for at least an hour twice a day. She can't sleep in her favorite chair or bed -- too soft. We still play, but for only minutes, then she's short of breath.

This darling little Scotty picked ME. I sat down to watch the puppies and she stopped playing with her littermates and stared at ME. I wasn't even looking for a dog. I just heard puppies barking and followed the sound. She got me through years of an abusive marriage, my divorce, a total breakdown, and my recovery. When she goes, I will be dogless for the first time in 25 years. All the others were loved, but this little girl is my heart. Her's is failing and mine is breaking.