Yesterday, my dog Rocky died.
I dont think I can describe what I feel so I wont really try. All I can say is that I miss him, that he was a good campanion to me, and he was my family.
As everyone pretty much knows, he’d been at the end of his rope for a few months now. This past week his conditioned worsened to the point where he would cry as he tried to get up off the floor, his limp was excessive and he had begun stumbling every few feet or so. Yesterday was the worst it had ever been and when he threw up in the lobby of my building I knew it was time. I had asked God to give me a sign and He provided many – I was the only one holding things up.
My mom went with me to the vet where the doctor examined Rocky and confirmed it was his time to go. She then gave him a sedative to help him relax and left me alone with him to say good bye.
For about 40 minutes I sat on the floor with him and pet him behind the ears just like he liked. He wasnt scared or anything, and at one point I wondered if he knew… I know a lot of you will think at this point that I was just seeing what I wanted, but at that moment Rocky put his head up and stared at me. I swear he was saying goodbye too.
Then the doctor poked her head in and I nodded. She came in with the technician and while I held him and petted him they shaved some hair off his arm and got ready to give him the shot. I took a few doggy treats and held them to his mouth and he perked right up and gobbled them down. I held him close to me and laughed, calling him a little piggy.
With my arms around him he gave my hand a final lick and quietly passed away.
Wrapped in a blanket I took him to his final resting place, a little grave dug for him on my parents property by the pond.
Of all the things I could say about Rocky, I think my dad said it the best. As he put the final shovel of dirt into the grave and patted the earth he looked at me and said, "The dog had no fault".
I agree. I miss him.