Sammy died a month ago. She only lived with us for a few months and then she decide to cross rainbow bridge. Usually I post sassy things, but the death of Sammy really affected me. She stopped eating her food, so we took her into the vet. They found her liver functions to be off and had us schedule an ultrasound for several days later. She didn’t make it to the next vet appointment.
We took her into the Animal ER because she stopped being able to stand. I found her trying to prop herself up against the wall trying to walk toward me the next day. She was trying to be so good because I was calling for her. I scooped her up and took her upstairs and just held her. We drove to the vet about 30 minutes later after talking to our friend, who works at the cute puppy hospital. During the drive, something told me that she wouldn’t be coming home, but you try to be optimistic. She stayed the night at the dog ICU, and the next day we were informed that she had cancer everywhere…liver, stomach, intestines. Then I had to make the decision of what to do.
I just wanted her to feel better, but that option wasn’t on the table. I couldn’t bear to be selfish and put a 13-year-old cocker spaniel riddled with cancer through chemo. So we drove to the vet ER, sat on the crying couch, and held her until it was time. She passed away in my arms, and I cried like a stupid baby (and I hate to cry). I’m not sure where I stand on the God front, but when I die, I just want to go to dog heaven, if such a place exists.