Normally the topic of a Take A Breath Tuesday is light and not porn related. Well, today it is heavy and not porn related. Yesterday, Sam and I made the decision that Daphne, our dog, was in pain. She is an older dog, maybe 10 years. We’re not sure. She has had a tumor on her neck for some time and it has become clear that she is in pain all the time. We don’t know why, but she is not as lively as she used to be. She is suffering.
I am not a dog lover. I have enough things that poop in my house and for the life of me, I can’t understand why people would BUY something that POOPS. I love my kids, so they are worth it. Dogs on the other hand, I don’t get it.
Now before you send me an e-mail, let me explain. You know that warm feeling you get as you look into the eyes of your dog and scratch its head. That connection you feel deep in your soul that sees a loving and devoted part of God’s creation.
I don’t have that feeling.
When I look at a dog, I see an animal. Not only that, an animal that pukes, pees, and poops on the carpet. It smells and gets underfoot. Dogs are messes with no upside. Kids are wonderful and delightful, thoroughly worth the poop. Dogs, not so much.
So imagine my surprise when the day comes and it is time to put Daphne down and I am…sad. I cried. I continue to cry. I don’t wish harm to Daphne. Far from it, I wish her well. Somehow this bodily fluid leaking ball of fur has worked her way into my heart. Not too deep, but deeper than I previously understood.
Sure, part of the pain is how hard this is for the kids. We told them yesterday and they have been working through the idea that Daphne is in pain and that she is going to die today. It is hard to have them struggling with Daphne, as a member of our family, dying. She’s never coming back. Their little hearts are breaking and that is breaking my big heart. There is a sweetness and innocence to their suffering that is hard for me to watch.
So, today at 1 PM. I will bring Daphne to the Humane Society. They will inject a barbiturate, probably phenobarbital, into Daphne’s veins. She will then feel relaxed and peaceful and fall asleep. The phenobarbital will then cause her to stop breathing and she will die of oxygen loss to the brain. I will then drive home and report that Daphne was peaceful. I will hold several little crying children and comfort them. It hurts me to think about it.
Daphne, I never really liked you that much. Somehow, I have come to care for you. I’m sorry you are hurting and I hope that I am bringing you peace and rest. I wish you well. Today, unlike most days, I hope that dogs do go to Heaven. If so, I will see you there. Either way, as dogs go, you have been a good one. You have loved and protected the kids like they were your puppies. For this I am grateful. I never worried you would hurt them. I promise that I am acting out what I think is best for you. I do not relish watching you die, it hurts to think of it. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. But I do need to take responsibility that as an animal, it is cruel to let you suffer like this. I want what is best for you.
God bless you Daphne. I hope to see you again some day.