Saying goodbye

This past week has been quite sad for me. We had to say goodbye to our dog Darwin. I hope you'll indulge me in some reflections on the experience.

Darwin, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, was named after Charles Darwin. Being the skeptic I am, I thought it was a good name.

Darwin even met a skeptical celebrity, Rebecca Watson!

Cavalier King Charles dogs are genetically prone to heart issues, with a high incidence of mitral valve disease, often meaning they live relatively short lives. We were lucky though, and Darwin didn't have these issues. He was nearly 14 years old when he passed, which is at the top of the range of their expected life.

He'd been a fairly active dog, loving going for walks about the neighbourhood, but over the past year he'd been slowing down a bit, then a couple of weeks ago, he really started slowing down, and being off his food.

We took him to the vet, and they suggested getting a specialist to do an ultrasound and assessment of him. That went reasonably well, with the conclusion being that he was in good shape for his age, but with a gallbladder issue and possible infection that could be treated, and an age-expected gradual deterioration of a heart valve. Interestingly, the specialist was suggesting various nutraceutical products as part of his treatment. My wife mentioned my connection with NZ Skeptics, and the specialist immediately started talking about the importance of scientific evidence. I thought it was nice that he recognised our position on these sorts of things, and we had a good discussion about it.

Unfortunately, the next day, Darwin was off his food and drink, and getting the medication into him was proving a real challenge. Even when taken to his food and water, he was becoming shaky on his legs, and showing no interest in eating even raw meat or chocolate treats, which he would normally have been very enthusiastic for. So, we made the decision to take him back to the vet with the intention that we wouldn't prolong any suffering.

As we sat in the waiting room, he was sitting on my wife's lap, and quite alert, but obviously not himself, not really reacting much to other dogs and cats that were there.

Once we got into the appointment with the vet, we discussed the situation and made the decision to say goodbye to him. And it was all very quick. The vet took him out of the room to insert a catheter into his leg, then brought him back to us to say our goodbyes. He was made comfortable on a rug then the vet injected the euthanising drugs and he was gone within a minute.

This made me think about the fragility of life. One minute we had our lovely living dog, able to interact with us. The next minute, he was gone. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but I did find it quite distressing.

I surprised myself at the depth of the emotions I felt, but I guess that's to be expected, having been a wonderful and fun companion for such a long time. I've found myself tearing up over the past few days (and while writing this) and missing him greatly. I guess it will take some time to adjust to the loss, but that's part of the grief process.

We've lost a member of our family. He had a good life and didn't suffer more than he had to. But damn, it's still difficult.