I had to put Capone, my bull terrier to sleep 2 days ago. She had oral cancer, and her symptoms started getting worse. She could eat, but there was a hole into the nasal cavity through her mouth. She would eat, then get little pieces of food caught in her nasal cavity, and she'd have to blow them out, usually with blood on them. She also had a couple tumors, one of which was starting to get bad. Terriers are at high risk for cancers so I'm told.
I just came back from vacation visiting my wife's family for her birthday. We were gone 3 weeks, and my mom came to our house twice a day to feed our dogs and cat. She gave me a call saying that Capone wasn't eating near the time we were supposed to come back. The vet told us that cancer victims usually don't make it past 1 year. He told me that 4 months ago, when I had her examined. She was a strong dog, and was one who wouldn't complain or whine. I knew she was in pain (her mouth had started to swell pretty bad), and didn't want her to suffer silently.
I feel now like I rushed into it, but everyone around me tells me that I was doing the most humane thing for her, before she started to deteriorate further. No matter what they say, I always feel like I could have given her more attention, or given her a better life. I got her from a bull terrier rescue home via the BTCA. She had been abused by her former owner, and from the looks of it, has been hit by a car, or something because one of her legs was obviously broken and healed incorrectly. She didn't have an easy life. I took the best care of her as I could. The rescue home didn't know how old she was, but estimated around 3, so she made it until age 9-11, I don't know.
Ironically, I had just watched Marley and me before we left for vacation. If you haven't seen the movie, skip this paragraph because it has a spoiler. Anyway, at the end of the movie when Marley is in the vet's office for the last time, Owen Wilson's character stays in the room while Marley is put down. When I saw this, I knew no matter how painful, I wanted to be there when she went.
So it was 11 at night when we (me, mom, and wife...I'm 26 btw) arrived. I stayed in the back seat with Capone while my wife checked us in. I had a heart-to-heart about when I got her, when she got loose for a week, and how much she meant to me. We went inside and went to our room. Me and my wife stayed in the room, but my mom didn't want to see it. I was sitting on the floor with Capone's head in my hand, and the vet sat down on the floor with us. I held her head and stared deep into her eyes while the he gave her the shot. She looked directly into my eyes then peacefully closed hers then I felt the weight of her head in my hand as I laid it down. That's when I lost it. I smashed the wall behind me, which scared the vet because I'm 6'2" and 240 some odd pounds. The last thing I saw through my blurry teary eyes was her body lying there as I stormed out of the vet's office. My wife stayed inside with my mom, but I stayed outside until it was time to give them my credit card. I am very conflicted about having stayed in the room. I am glad that she had me there, and I was able to convey comfort to her, and be the last thing that she saw, and I was the last one to look into her eyes. At the same time, that image of her closing her eyes makes me choke up even as I type this. That image will haunt me until the day that I die. I've had death around me, but have never experienced it first hand.
I had my closest friend for 7 years put to sleep. I got her body back the next day, blistered my hands digging the grave and hacking through stone with an axe (I live in the concrete jungle of metro Miami). We made a nice grave for her, and put it almost directly in the center of our yard. Every time I go outside for a smoke, I am compelled to walk from my back patio into the yard in front of her grave. Some times I smile as I look up to the sky above, but most times I just stare blankly at the grave realizing how much of me is missing, and I see that last image I have of her as she was put down.
I know I will get over the sadness of not having her around, I do have a bulldog, cat, fish, and even a praying mantis to keep me company. As you can tell I love animals, all kinds. But Capone was the first pet I owned and cared for on my own. I don't know if I'll ever get over the guilt I feel, and thoughts that I could have given her a better life. I know I gave her the best life that I could; She had a family and love. But I will always think that I could have given her a better life. I still can't believe she's gone, and my heart's not going to heal any time soon. I found this thread seeking some kind of comfort and reassurance that I did the best thing for her. Strangely enough, at that late hour we brought her in to the vet, there was a woman who was in the adjacent room who was putting her cat of 14 years to sleep. She came in and gave her condolences, even hugged my mother.
Losing a pet that you truly love is as hard as losing a human family member, sometimes harder. After all, you never get into arguments with your pets, they never cheat on you or lie to you, they never set out to hurt you, but just give you unconditional love. They are innocents. I know we will get another dog sometime in the future, and I think I'm going to get him from a rescue home, or shelter. Capone was the sweetest dog albeit crazy. She had such a distinct personality, as do all dogs and cats. That's how I know that she has gone somewhere else, and I hope that I'll see her again some day. In the mean time, I have to cope with this new era of my life without her.
I send out my heart felt condolences to anyone who has lost their dog or cat and have had to have them euthanized.
I had put this message as a reply to someone else's thread, but I wanted to make one in honor of my puppy.
Re: My first baby 
It will be 4 years ago at the end of this month and I still get sad moments.
