Our dog died today.
We've had him for as long as I can remember, since 1996, and he was always there in all of my childhood memories. He was the best dog I could have ever hoped for, and I don't know what our life would be like today if we had decided to go on a different walk that day. I wonder how different our life would have been if we hadn't gotten him.
All I know is that it would have been so much more boring, so much blander without him. He brought that childish, loving atmosphere to our home every day, even though most of the time it was covered up by his atmosphere of deadly smell. No, Drac wasn't a pretty dog, he wasn't smart and got into a lot of dumb situations, and he wasn't the most well behaved creature either, getting into whatever kind of mess or trouble he could while we were gone.
Still, Dracula was Dracula, and I still love him dearly. I'll always miss him.
We took him to the vet today after we saw how bad his legs were last night. He was finally done, he finally gave in to the pain. We knew he couldn't suffer anymore.
We actually, to put it bluntly, got to watch him die. We wanted to be right by his side the whole way through, petting him and praising him even though he lost his hearing months ago. He went out peacefully, with fresh-eaten Spam still in him, a sort of silly looking grin on his face as he was sedated. I watched him stop breathing.
It was heart breaking, but for the best. I know he's happier now than he was here at home, barely able to walk or stand and falling over everywhere. We did the right thing for him, even if it was probably one o fhte hardest things we have ever had to do as a family.
Rest in peace, Old Man.
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