We have decided that it is time for our dog Zoe to be put to sleep. I can write it, but I can’t say it aloud without crying yet. She is 15 and we have known for several years that the time was drawing near. Several weeks ago when the weather got colder she started to refuse to go outside and that’s not good.
I think I have told you before that she was our honeymoon gift to ourselves. She was from a show dog family but was born with a hernia which made her unshowable. She has papers and everything which was a first for any dog I had known. She was so tiny we could hold her in one hand. She was my companion many evenings when Brent was out playing music. I never figured she would attack an intruder or anything, but I figured a burglar might trip over her and that would give me time to call the police.
We are constantly scolded at the vet because she is overweight. She is supposed to be on heart medication but the medication made her incontinent to the point of furniture replacement. She has a collapsing esophagus which makes her wheeze.
Oh, but she has been our friend and our little mascot. We named her Zoe because it means life. We dressed her up when she was young. We amused friends and loved ones with her antics. She kept us company. If I could say thank you to her, I would say thanks for getting me through those first tough years of marriage. Thanks for always being my friend. Thanks for listening to me even when what I was saying didn’t make sense. Thanks for protecting me from the mailman, the neighbor children . . . a leaf blowing in the wind.
Well done, good and faithful servant.