I haven’t cried this much in a very long time. There is a noticeable void in the house and my heart is very heavy about it. All of the things I’ve been told are true – he’s in a better place, he’s out of pain, he’s had a good life, this was the right thing to do – but I am here to tell you that I am still crying, even right now, over never being able to see, touch, and love on Hank again. We got him in November 2000 when he was only two months old, so he was just shy of 10 years old when he left.
I spent as much time with Hank on Thursday night and Friday morning as I could, minus the time spent at the dermatologist for the spot removal. About an hour before our appointment time, I took Hank in the front yard so he could sniff around and enjoy the outdoors for the last time. On purpose, he was over-medicated so he could move around without whimpering.
I cried all morning, during the short drive to the vet, and all through his passing. It was a short procedure and we laid next to him for his comfort and ours. I sobbed over him and finally picked myself up off the floor when all the warmth had left his body. The doctor stamped his paw print on a card and we signed off to have him cremated. He will go back to Tennessee with us and we’ll spread his ashes off Edward’s Point at Rainbow Lake.
The rest of the day was somber, and while I usually hyper-clean or exercise to relieve tension, my movement is limited due to the sutures in my back. So I sat on the couch in bouts of crying. When the boys came home from school, we did whatever we could to keep our minds busy, though Hank was never far from mine.
Like everything, this will pass. And now that I’ve had a night to sleep on our decision, I’m okay with it. I miss my dog and the heaviness in my heart will linger, but he indeed had a good life and our lives were all the better by having him.