Lycos

1-9-14

Dead Dog Walking.

Ok, I know, this isn’t a time to joke, but it is a perfectly reasonable way to deal with grief. Especially when said sadness will truly be hard to get past.

Ken and I always said that Lycos would be the first pet the boys would understand death with. There were other cats who died while they were little, but they didn’t know them the same way they know Lycos. We have been discussing this time for years, but really over the last couple weeks it became very apparent just how much we don’t want our sweet pup to suffer. Her quality of life has diminished greatly and it doesn’t seem fair to keep her around and watch her deteriorate to the point of crippling pain.

Ken made the appointment and Lycos goes to Doctor Steinam Monday afternoon. I will be making arrangements for the boys to be dropped off at my parents’ house on the way.

We sat around the dinner table, eating our dinner and it was mentioned casually that Lycos was to be euthanized next week. The boys had questions in their eyes and were unsure of how to process this data. We talked about it a lot, and it was about 10 minutes in when I noted the quivering lips and brave eyes that tried to keep the tears at bay. I instantly called them over where they burst into tears. I knew it would be hard, but you never know just how hard until you are in the midst of it.

We told them it was ok to be sad. We also tried to explain our decision and how it wasn’t made lightly. One of the things that was pointed out was that it would be awful for one of them to be the one to have to find her out in the backyard already cold. I told them how my last memory of one of my favorite cats is that of her terrified look that was frozen on her face after she had passed. She had died alone, and we don’t want that to be the case with Lycos.

We picked up some canned pumpkin for the pups for dinner. Lycos was quite pleased. It was much easier to consume what with her teeth failing her more and more. I would take her to the park tonight for soccer practice, but it will most likely be too much for her. Instead, we can take her on Sunday, when we have more time to spend with her.

In a sad timing situation, we may have found a puppy. I have wanted to get a friend for Luna for a while. I am always looking at shelters or rescue groups or breeders in the area. We had pretty much settled on going to a breeder of Bermese Mountain Dogs since I have fallen deeply in love with them. This would mean saving up and finding a reputable breeder and all that jazz, which isn’t all bad. However, I have kept my eyes open for other options. Yesterday, I came across the LA County revamped shelter page which had all of their animals for all the shelters they run. Turns out if you go a couple hours away, you end up with a lot more choices of dog breed. In Lancaster, they had several lab pups, including one that comes available tomorrow that is only 3 months old. Ken and I have decided to drive out in the morning after we drop the boys off and go see if she would be a good addition to the Brenan family. Luna will be coming with us, too, since she has a hand (or a paw) in all of this.

It seems wrong to be looking at new pups when not only is the body not cold, but hell, it is still walking. However, I know that I am not doing this to be disrespectful. Opportunity sometimes comes at strange times, and a shelter puppy is a much better option than a breeder pup for a number of reasons. I did point out to Ken that if we adopt this pup, she will most likely be ready to pick up on Monday morning, which just seems wrong to go get the new dog the same day the old dog dies. Strange timing all around.

I have soccer reports to create, which I am sure I can get them done this morning. There is soccer practice this evening along with the board meeting. I have plans to do my park walk still tonight and then after practice, drop the boys and dog off and head to the meeting. I really should just call out tomorrow.

The drive tomorrow will also have to be quick since we need to get back to the school by noon thirty. Bobby’s Pilot of the Week lunch is tomorrow and we get to come. He doesn’t know I will be coming, too. We will need to get there and back in 4 hours. Sheesh! Cutting it close, peeps!