The perfect name for our friend, who left us yesterday... It was one of the toughest decisions I've ever had to make, especially with the knowledge that my son would be devastated. He was. When I picked him up from school yesterday, he wanted to know what was wrong. I said there were a couple of things I had to talk to him about. The first was completely insignificant, and he knew it. He asked me if Buddy was OK. I had to tell the truth: No. We were going home to tell Buddy goodbye, and my dad would take him to the vet. He cried while I drove. I cried while I drove. We held hands--tightly.
When we got home, my son and I sat on the living room floor together with Buddy. We petted, talked, cried, took pictures. My son would be fine one minute, sobbing the next. My parents arrived soon after, and my mom said it hurt her just to look at the dog... In the past week, the tumor on his leg had gotten so big that I could not fit my hand around it. He could not walk on it. He had not eaten. He wouldn't even go outside. This was the right thing to do, wasn't it? I asked my dad that question as he and I helped him into the back of their car. Yes, he said, it was.
We said our goodbyes there in my driveway. By then my sister and my niece were there, but I barely remember what they said or when they left. My son and I kissed our friend goodbye and sobbed. He so uncontrollably that I had to carry him into the house. I am so thankful to my parents for sparing my son and me the hour's drive to the vet, because I know how it was hard for them, too. Buddy had been their dog before us. He was a true family member.
We love you and we will miss you, Buddy. May you rest in peace.