It's only been 12 1/2 hours since we said goodbye to one another. I knew going to the vet today would have only one of two outcomes - two extremely opposite outcomes. I think deep down in that part of me I did not want to acknowledge, I knew that this was going to be what today brought.

I wonder what you thought as I slipped on your collar and led you outside, letting you stop to pee and sniff around before trying to convince you to get in the car. Did you know where we were going and why we were going? Is that why you didn't want to get in? OR was it because the arthritis hurt you that badly? A treat could barely tempt you. The whole way there you cried - a new quirk of yours that you'd developed within the last couple of years. You were no longer the dog who loved car rides and would sleep peacefully in the backseat until nature called, prompting you to stick your cold nose against my neck (usually startling me too might I add). No, now you hated car rides and could not lie still and would whine until it stopped. And you never liked getting in them either. Jumping in wasn't easy anymore.

We found ourselves in the parking lot and I let you walk around smelling where other dogs had come and gone before you. And into the room we went where you cried as you tried to stand but the tile was not kind to you. Constantly you slid and tried to get up but your muscles couldn't seem to figure it out anymore. OR maybe it was because it was tile and not the carpet. But I remember how scrawny your back legs were the last time I bathed you and how afterwards you could not stand or do anything but cry as you tried so desperately to stand.

Just like you did on Sunday morning, waking me from a deep sleep with your terrible scream that I had not heard since the day the bees stung you and you nearly died. I ran to you and found you lying uncomfortably on the floor crying for help. You looked at me with those eyes, and I knew you hated being like that. I knew the Princess I once knew would never tolerate being belittled and uncivilized like that, merely lying there in her own waste. I wanted to help you up, but you've always hated to be touched; and just like before, you retreated from my touch and managed to get up on your own. The poop had been squashed beneath you in your thrashing, and you did not want to be touched to even let me clean it. I did what I could, but I wish I could've done more. It hurt to know that you had reached a point that I could no longer care for you.

You wouldn't let me wipe the rain or snow from your back or brush the fur from you anymore. When I entered the room, you left to go to the next room. at night though, you would return and I usually awoke to find you near my side. I started adding up the hours and realized you were only awake probably 15 minutes at most a day. You had lost your desire to stay awake, preferring dreams of when you were young and with your pack members that have since gone to the bridge. Or at least, that's what I imagine. Some days I could barely wake you from your slumber and other days it seemed your next breath would never come. I told you I would be okay if you wanted to move on.

I would hear you cry as you tried to lie down and watch you turn in circles upon circles. Even when you did settle down, nine times out of ten it was with an even louder whine or with this sound of "it still hurts but I'm too tired/in pain to try moving again."

I focused all my attention on the good things though. How you still showed interest in treats and food, and if I put a collar on you, you'd get up for a walk. But those brief moments were minor moments in a larger timeframe of pain and sleep. And while I believe I could've found other medicines to help ease your pain, I found myself having a hard time justifying it. It would've taken a while for them to work, in which case you'd be in pain until they did; and even if they did finally work, it wouldn't be long before they stopped. And what joy did you have anymore when all your time was spent sleeping? When you would leave the room if I was there? When you could no longer see? When you fell off the steps or had trouble getting up them? When you could not even manage to poop without falling in it? Even now when you peed, I could see it hurt to squat down, though I tried to ignore that sign.

I wanted so badly to hang on to you for a while longer. While it may seem long to some, 14 1/2 years was not long enough to me.So when I saw you struggling there on the floor in the vet's office, knew the pain that it and the trip back home would cause you, I decided to let you go. I decided that those few extra days, however longer they may be with the addition of more medicines, would not be worth that day of pain. I've always heard dogs live in the moment, and all I could see for you at that moment was pain.

Still I wonder if I made the right choice. Did you feel betrayed knowing I - the human who chose you and raised you since you were a pup - had led you to your death? Did you feel comforted knowing you wouldn't have to be in pain anymore and that I had given you that? Did you know it was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I never wanted to have to do that? Did you know I was your best friend and that nothing will ever be able to fill the gaping hole you've left in my life? Do you know how much I've cried today? Do you know how much I dread going to sleep because I know I'll have to face the fact that you're gone again in the morning because I know I'll look for you? I've looked for you so many times already.

My biggest regret is that I didn't make today special enough for you. I wanted to pet you and tell you how much you were loved, but you were sleeping so peacefully in my room; and earlier when I came to see you, you got up and left the room. I should've given you more peanut butter. Fed you that canned dog food you used to love but could no longer stomach. I should've spoiled you.

I hope you know I'm sorry that I didn't give you a better last day. I hope the days before it made up for that. I hope you were not mad at me. I hope you can understand why I did what I did. I hope I made the right choice for you. I hope I didn't choose this too soon. It just broke my heart to see you in pain. I hope your tormenting JD, running with Rocko, and keeping Chevy in the corner like you used to. I hope there's snow up there for you to play in.

And most of all, I hope that there truly is a life after this where we get to meet again because I really can't imagine a heaven without you.

Thank you for all the memories you've given me. I hope I gave you some good ones too; and I really, truly hope that you understand that I love you and never wanted today to come. My life changed the moment you came into it, and it will never be the same without you here.