Thx in advance for your sympathies, all.
Of course, we weren’t lucky enough she died in her sleep. That was wishful thinking, that the decision would be taken out of our hands.
Middie the Wonder Dog was 15 afterall, and that’s stretching it even in dog years. To explain, she’d suddenly stopped eating her usual food a month ago, and even though we came up with a new formulation that kept her eating, eating had become her last and only pleasure.
She was going away from us.
Yesterday, she had her second attack of vestibular syndrome, which makes ’em dizzy as hell. Recovering from a second bout at age 15 is clinically contraindicated. It was time.
She couldn’t sleep last night; she was sitting up because laying down made her dizzy. We got up together around dawn although I never get up at dawn, and we went outside together. I held her up so she could pee at my feet.
Good dog, as she’s always been. She held it until the proper time.
Woke Mrs. TVD after making an appointment at the vet, said she should come this time. She knew what I meant.
They spent time together in the back seat of the car while the vet got ready. And we were ready, me, the missus, and Middie. Help me, said Middie. So we did help Middie, over what pet lovers call the Rainbow Bridge.
C.S. Lewis said that heaven is perfect, and if that means we need Middie there for it to be perfect, then yes, dogs go to heaven and she will be waiting for us there.
I think there’s a reason dogs only live 15 years or so. Their love for us is perfect, and so is our love for them.
And when they are gone, we humans have to look to each other, and none of us is perfect. It’s so much harder for us to love each other than it is to love what is perfect.
That’s my lesson for today anyway, why Middie the Wonder Dog was given to us, and why she had to be taken away. If she could have lived forever, everything would have been perfect. But that’s not what this life is for.