I have always considered myself to be a strong man. Mentally strong, I mean, able to do what has to be done no matter how difficult. I could, but won’t, cite dozens of examples of times that I endured grievous pain, both physical and mental, and handled it stoically. However, it serves no purpose to dwell on what has been when you are faced with one of the most painful situations you will ever endure. All that matters now is what you do tomorrow. I hate to be melodramatic but am unable to do what I have to do without talking it out with myself. Writing has always been a relieving outlet for me so I must write this tonight to enable myself to get through the next few days.

It is no surprise that we are now facing the final days for our beloved little Bubbles. We knew two years ago that her days were numbered. That she has survived, and well I might add, is a testament to her strength and the size of her heart. Bubbles has more than eclipsed all predictions of longevity and for the most part, has had a happy existence. Unfortunately, the past three weeks have been a downward spiral for her and thus for Sue and me. Long stays at the veterinarian’s hospital have been punctuated by far too short stints at home.

My inner conflict stems from knowing that my dog is slowly dying and not having the strength to put her out of the misery she is obviously in. I am so conflicted because I know euthanasia will give her peace but selfishly I know how much I am going to miss my little pal. We have been putting it off for a while but it has become obvious that the time has come to do what is best for our Bubbles.

You either get it or you don’t. There was a time in my life I would not have gotten it. It’s just a dog……That’s life………… Time heals everything………the clichés don’t do justice to how you feel inside when your faithful pet has to go. Well, I get it now, dammit and it hurts!

Life is going to be different now. I will so miss the trips to the garage to get the dry food from the barrel. Bubbles always went along to watch. She would even go along when I took out the trash just in case I opened the food bucket. Now, sadly, I’ll have to make those trips alone.

Walks will continue with Lily but the excitement won’t be the same. I’ll miss the little “Yips” and how she would twirl in circles when Bubbles heard the word ‘walk’ and saw me put on my “walkin’ hat”.

This tiny creature who was so wary of me for two full years that she would not let me touch her has become my finest companion. She decided somewhere along the way that I must be OK and a bond was formed that I cannot explain or dismiss lightly. Bubbles put her trust in me, knowing instinctively that I would never let her come to harm and would do everything in my power to protect her and give her a good life. I cannot betray that trust by now allowing her to live out her life in discomfort, unable to breathe and eat. I have to humanely end her young life and it is killing me to do it.

I know in my mind it is for the best to let her go in peace and end the suffering but my heart is broken and I don’t know how to deal with it. I have had pets who died and I was sad but it was never like this.

I know we will get another dog as Lily will be sad without her “sister”. Lily is sensitive and will need a companion at home while we are not there. I also know the next pet will grow on me and will capture my heart, as I am truly enlightened now as to the value of a loving pet. I can only hope the joy of a new dog will help lessen the pain in my heart that I now feel. But nothing will ever take the place of my beloved Bubbles, my Little Buddy. She is my heart. Rest in Peace our Sweet Little Girl. I loved you so.

Dad (alias Jim Starcher)