Gus

Months ago I asked Mom what the plan was for Gus when it was time.  She knew exactly what I was talking about.  You know, Mom - when he's in pain or can't eat or can't get around?  "Gina, why can't you let me be happy?" was her reply.  (I hope to God she didn't trip over him and that's what caused her to fall just after her stroke...)

And I get that she didn't want to think of losing him.

But I also get that you can't just let him suffer needlessly after all this time as your faithful companion.  Gus was plagued by glaucoma and could not see.  Likely had migraines, according to the vet. Wasn't hearing too well.  Had a limp, probably due to arthritis or dislocated hip.  And had become incontinent.  This wasn't going to work  at my sister's house, and we didn't think anyone else was on the same page as we were.  Offers to help weren't really realistic.  Gus is an indoor dog and already a couple of years past his life expectancy.  Mom wasn't aware of Gus; Gus wasn't aware of Mom.  And there was no easy way around it - he had no quality of life and he needed us to relieve his suffering at the vet.  It was time.

So on Thursday, I did.

I'm not a dog lover, in general.  But I understand what he meant to her and I know she would not willingly part with him.  But she was asked several times if she wanted to see Gus, and she said no.  She had to know he was in a bad way.  It was the second time I had to let a pet go this way, crying like a baby the whole time.  I know my mother will forgive me one day when he greets her in heaven with his happy little barks and wagging tail.  I have to believe that I made the right decision to end his suffering and act humanely.

Rest in peace, Gus.