Missing Bucky
May. 6th, 2009 03:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ashetlandponyI miss my dog terribly. It's now been two weeks since Bucky was put to sleep, and not a day's gone by that I haven't cried my eyes out over losing him. He was the best dog in the whole wide world, and my world is a whole lot less worth living in now that he's not in it.
I'm still racked by guilt that I may have had Bucky put down too soon, though. In terms of his ability to walk, it absolutely was the right time – I have zero doubt about that. Considering the rate of his physical decline, in another day or two I'm certain he wouldn't have been able to walk at all anymore. (He couldn't even stand up to greet the vet when she arrived.)
On the other hand, I had told myself originally that I wasn't going to have Bucky put to sleep until it was clear to me that he wasn't enjoying life anymore. This is where my trouble lies, because I know that, even though he was very weak and getting weaker every day, Bucky still loved his little world and he did not want to leave it yet – or leave me.
The vet has since told me, though, that dogs in the last stage of kidney failure have at most one week left to live, and that, at the end, they are in a great deal of pain. And Bucky's last blood test at the clinic the Friday before confirmed that his kidneys had "given up," to use that vet's exact words.
So even though I know Bucky was still experiencing a degree of enjoyment in life, I have to accept the fact that he did have a terminal illness and was certain to die within a few days, anyway, and in retrospect, I really did not want him to have to endure any suffering. The decision to put him to sleep still rips me up inside, though. I know from how Bucky behaved during his last days that he did truly want me to help him, but the only way I could help him was to end his life in as peaceful and painless a manner as possible.
I'll tell you something, though. I'd much prefer it had been me that died rather than Bucky. In many ways, I feel like I've already lived too long. I've outlived almost everyone I've ever loved, and there's no one here with me at all anymore. To live and die alone seems now to be my destined fate.
Anyway, I thought I'd share some video clips of Bucky. I wish now that I'd taken many more movies of him. One of dozens of regrets I have now, looking back on our all-too-brief time together.
Bucky had a great howl. Whenever he'd hear a siren, he'd issue forth with a classic wolf-type howl. This clip starts after the initial ascending notes of his howl, but it does give you a good idea of his reaction to sirens. (I don't think he'd ever been as close to sirens as he was here.) Thanks to my friend Dan for having his camera at hand at the time.
Here's me giving Bucky some loving attention. Didn't take much to make him happy. He was such a good boy!
Here's Bucky on a beach at Trinidad. This was taken only a week before he died...
Here's Bucky just hanging out under a shady tree. This was taken during his last visit to the field nearby our house, only two days before his death. Right up until the end, he always looked fine when lying down; his infirmity was only obvious when he tried to stand up or walk. As you can see here, though, despite his apparent frailty, Bucky was still enjoying all the sights, sounds and smells of his world. He really did not want to leave yet. *cries* Oh Bucky, I am so sorry. In spite of what the vet said, I'm afraid I'll be harboring this terrible guilt for the rest of my days.
I miss you so much, Bucky! I just don't know what I'm going to do without you...
I'm still racked by guilt that I may have had Bucky put down too soon, though. In terms of his ability to walk, it absolutely was the right time – I have zero doubt about that. Considering the rate of his physical decline, in another day or two I'm certain he wouldn't have been able to walk at all anymore. (He couldn't even stand up to greet the vet when she arrived.)
On the other hand, I had told myself originally that I wasn't going to have Bucky put to sleep until it was clear to me that he wasn't enjoying life anymore. This is where my trouble lies, because I know that, even though he was very weak and getting weaker every day, Bucky still loved his little world and he did not want to leave it yet – or leave me.
The vet has since told me, though, that dogs in the last stage of kidney failure have at most one week left to live, and that, at the end, they are in a great deal of pain. And Bucky's last blood test at the clinic the Friday before confirmed that his kidneys had "given up," to use that vet's exact words.
So even though I know Bucky was still experiencing a degree of enjoyment in life, I have to accept the fact that he did have a terminal illness and was certain to die within a few days, anyway, and in retrospect, I really did not want him to have to endure any suffering. The decision to put him to sleep still rips me up inside, though. I know from how Bucky behaved during his last days that he did truly want me to help him, but the only way I could help him was to end his life in as peaceful and painless a manner as possible.
I'll tell you something, though. I'd much prefer it had been me that died rather than Bucky. In many ways, I feel like I've already lived too long. I've outlived almost everyone I've ever loved, and there's no one here with me at all anymore. To live and die alone seems now to be my destined fate.
Anyway, I thought I'd share some video clips of Bucky. I wish now that I'd taken many more movies of him. One of dozens of regrets I have now, looking back on our all-too-brief time together.
Bucky had a great howl. Whenever he'd hear a siren, he'd issue forth with a classic wolf-type howl. This clip starts after the initial ascending notes of his howl, but it does give you a good idea of his reaction to sirens. (I don't think he'd ever been as close to sirens as he was here.) Thanks to my friend Dan for having his camera at hand at the time.
Here's me giving Bucky some loving attention. Didn't take much to make him happy. He was such a good boy!
Here's Bucky on a beach at Trinidad. This was taken only a week before he died...
Here's Bucky just hanging out under a shady tree. This was taken during his last visit to the field nearby our house, only two days before his death. Right up until the end, he always looked fine when lying down; his infirmity was only obvious when he tried to stand up or walk. As you can see here, though, despite his apparent frailty, Bucky was still enjoying all the sights, sounds and smells of his world. He really did not want to leave yet. *cries* Oh Bucky, I am so sorry. In spite of what the vet said, I'm afraid I'll be harboring this terrible guilt for the rest of my days.
I miss you so much, Bucky! I just don't know what I'm going to do without you...
