My Dog

Our family dog, Rhett, was put to sleep today. I'm heartbroken. Rhett was such a good boy. He was 13 years old. A couple weeks ago, he started having seizures & he just hasn't been the same since. The seizures were controlled for a few days, but they started back up. He could no longer walk straight, wandered & you could tell that he didn't have any idea where he was or what was going on. He wasn't breathing properly...constantly panting. There were a few emergency vet visits.

We had a Westie dog, just like Rhett, before. His name was Mac. Mac got out of the fence one day & was killed by a car. That was one of the hardest times. And soon after, mom & Duane decided they wanted another dog just like Mac. I didn't live with Rhett long because Nate & I got married a year or so after we got him, but he was my dog.

My mom and step-dad had to make such a hard decision; to let him live knowing that he was hurting & having to watch him seizure everyday & possible dying when they weren't there, or putting him to sleep peacefully in their arms. In our own selfishness, we wanted to let him live. But what good was that for him? He was in pain. He was tired. I got to see him one last time. And it was like he knew it would be the last. He licked my mouth & face, something he hadn't done in a while.