Your Pet Loss Stories

'Babes', the saddest face, the warmest heart'

by Stevie
(Coquitlam, BC, Canada)

I am still in a state of shock, grief, and cannot describe in words even here, the loss I feel about having to give the Vet 'permission' to inject my lovely dog 'Babes', with an overdose of 'something' to put him to 'sleep'...forever. That was Dec 17 / 08, 3pm, in a room at the Vet clinic.

Babes was my first dog...a gift...from my wife for my birthday. Babes was 6yrs when we met, and within 10 seconds of the first time I met him, I bonded with him. It took him a while longer than that to bond with me. My wife brought him home on a Saturday afternoon from the airport, and what with the air flight, car travel, being brought into a new home, and being introduced to a stranger (me) as a surprise gift, he peed on the floor in nervousness when I went over to say hello.

I frightened him. But, I felt his nervousness, and in that instant, my heart went out to him (seriously...it did), and I bonded with him. He seemed so frightened, lost, and in need of a friend, and I wanted to be that friend.

For the next 6 years we were friends, I always referred to him as either the 'best gift my wife ever got me' (and this was true), or, 'the gift that kept on taking'. By this latter label I was humourously referring to the fact that literally, every month after he came to live with us, we were out an average of 250.00 dollars per month for food, clothes, toys, spa treatments, and medical bills (Babes was a frequently ill dog).

However, for almost the first time in my life I was actually eager to spend my money on someone, my friend, Babes, and was happy to do so. My goal for us as friends was to literally allow us to find our place with him instead of us 'training' him to find his place with us. I wanted him to do his own 'thing'. I wanted him to actually be an equal member of the family.
And...it worked. Babes was moody, huffy, did only what he wanted when he wanted, etc.

However...there was a love that came out of him that was like heat when you touched him or he looked at you. I liked to touch him, talk to him, sing to him, sit beside him, take photos of him (lots), walk with him, take him drives. And strangely, I never begrudged a second of my time doing anything for him...he just seemed to deserve it, and I was glad to give it. Strange, because, I am selfish by nature.

Lots of stories but, maybe later...instead...a couple of months ago his habits began to ever so slightly change, especially his eating habits. I noticed but I thought (wrongly) it was not serious. I took him to the Vet who I am sorry to say, did not diagnoze the true reasons for Babes change in habits. Anyway, we had examinations, medication, etc, and it all basically did nothing.

The change in habits became more, and more pronounced. Again, back to the Vet...one last time. And again, another round of tests, medication, boarding overnight for the first time, and eventually being told Babes might have any one of 3 types of illness / disease. An endoscopy was suggested, it was done, and we waited 4 days for the result. Meanwhile Babes was losing weight...fast!

He was literally skin, and bone, and for a Whippet...not good. His sad face got sadder. I visited him at the Vet, sat with him, and of course, he would walk to the out door and want to leave...go home. I was so sad, so sick. Then the call with the results of the endoscopy....cancer of the intestines. I was floored, hard, and fast! It was only 3 weeks from apparent health and regular weight etc, to this; cancer. My lovely, gentle spirit Babes had cancer.

So...I gave 'permission', and I stood over him, holding him, talking to him, crying over him, wishing for a miracle, feeling the worst I have ever felt in my whole life, and the liquid was injected into his oh so frail body. He lay down on his side. I was surprised at how fast it was from the time of the injection to Babes no longer breathing. I discovered dogs eyes don't close.

I cried...I stayed...I cried...I stayed...I cried...I left...I cried...I still am crying.
I left him at the Vet, a place he did not like to go to for any reason, and always 'locked' his front legs at the Vets front door so that I had to carry him inside. Now I know why he did not like this Vets place.

Babes was privately cremated as I wanted to be sure I got ONLY his ashes returned to me. I did. Now, they are in my living room facing me in the spot where he slept. I have all his stuff still.

I dont know what to do next.