The End

We said goodbye to Bug today. After two prior vet visits this week, and him refusing to eat, it was time.

Pmo and I took him in together. The doctors talked with us and agreed that, at this point, it was the best thing for him because things were only going to get worse and he would suffer.

We broke down crying and spent some time alone with Bug. Then one by one, the people at Parkdale started to file into the room and pay their respects. Sort of a funeral before the death. It was very moving.

Pmo and I were both with Bug when he passed on. I held his face in my hands and told him I loved him. Then he was gone. And I laid his head, which had become heavy, down on the table. We spent a few more minutes alone with him. Then it was time to leave.

The doctor put Bug in his blanket inside a box and we put him in the car. We picked up Jack at home then headed to my mom and dad's. They have a place on the hill behind the pond where they buried Simba (their pug), a neighbor's pug and our horse, Hank. I called them on the way over and Dad was already preparing the grave when we arrived.

Dad had to take Bug over in the box by four wheeler, so he gave him one last ride around the house. Bug always loved to ride with Papaw and would scream his head off the whole way. After Dad was done, we buried Bug, said goodbye again, and headed back to the house.

Pmo and I hadn't eaten anything all day, so we grabbed some food on the way home a few hours later. With just Jack. We're a threesome now. It's so weird.

When we got home, I started to clean up because Bug had left a trail of mess behind in the past few days. And neither of us felt like dealing with it. I came into the back bedroom where Bug slept, looked at his empty cage and lost it.

He's never coming out of there again.
He's never going to bang his head on the wall trying to find his way down the hallway.
He's never going to yell at me for giving him an insulin shot, or cleaning his eyes out, or anything else I do to try and help him.
He's never going to beg for bacon.
He's never going to snore.

But he's never going to hurt again either.
Bug's at peace, and now we need to rest and let it sink in.

Night, night...sweet Bugton.
We love you.

Attitude or Ailment?

I'm not very good at keeping up with one blog, let alone two, but I thought I'd write about the fur kids since I haven't posted for four months.

When people ask how Bug is doing, I always say, "okay". If I say he's good, seems like he goes downhill soon after. We boarded him at the vet last weekend so we could go to a winery in Tennessee with Pmo's cousin and visit family in Kentucky. It's always a toss up when we get back whether he'll be normal (as normal as he can be) or be fussy and not feeling well.

This week, the coin landed on fussy. Bug's been coughing, especially when we carry him outside. He can't get settled once he's been fed/watered/medicated/pottied. Which are his basic needs, besides a snuggle here and there.

Jack has been starting fights with him, too. Over food, mainly. Jack is a little dog who's scared of many things: storms, shadows, big dogs, etc. But you don't mess with the dog's food. He will eat you alive. Problem is, Bug hasn't been trying to steal Jack's food. Bug is blind and he doesn't always know where he's going. So Jack sees Bug walk by a crumb of his, and it's on. Bug lost a tooth over it a few weeks ago.

Bug's also been peeing a lot. We'll go through this from time to time. He hadn't had an accident in his cage for a long time, then all of a sudden Thursday morning there was a mess. And Friday morning. It always coincides with his increased thirst, he's been drinking water nonstop.

Despite his age and debilitating condition, I try to wait these things out and see if the symptoms will go away because his care is expensive enough as it is. I hope to chalk it up to his routine being upset by the boarding. If things don't improve, I suppose I'll be taking a pee sample to the vet next week. And it will come back clear of a bladder infection and I will have wasted money on it.

We can't not board Bug, we have places to go and things to do. We take the best care of him we can but it's trying. Bless his heart. Though he is grumpy and not the best patient, he knows what he wants and when he's under the weather. And he reacts accordingly. Can't say I blame him. Can't say I don't do the same thing.

On a brighter note, Jack turns 10 years old this month. Which means I will have a 10 year old and almost 13 year old. Time flies in fur land.