Yesterday, we took Phoebe to The Big Sleep at the vet's office.
I am just now feeling stable.
I didn't cook all week.
We'd been worried about Phoebe for a few weeks, because she couldn't keep food down.
Otherwise, she seemed okay and happy, but she was losing weight and was less interested in eating.
During the past few days, it was obvious that the end was near, and I felt panicked that PeeBee would die when I was gone to work or was away for some reason. Ethan and I agreed that she was getting worse by the day, so we made a plan to take her to the vet on 10-27. Doubts were put to rest when we saw how weak and pitiful she was, especially on the day we'd decided upon. I was actually thankful that her health was so obsiously poor... all I could think was that we needed to get her to the Big Sleep and not let her suffer anymore.
The Holt Veterinary Clinic took care of us, very GOOD care of us (and Phoebe).
They made the sad experience bearable.
Ethan and I left feeling sad but okay, but I was shocked at the grief that awaited me when I got home. I had never imagined a home without Phoebe, without her toenail noises, her sighs when she goes to bed, and her presence while I get ready for work. Ethan, too, still felt sad.
I tried to go to work this morning, but couldn't stop crying. My loving "boss," Kathy, sent me home when she saw how sad I was. Ethan left work early, too. We spent the day together, mostly him listening to me talk about Phoebe. He was sad, too, though. Thank the Lord for bringing Ethan to me. He loved Phoebe like I did.
Phoebe was a wonderfully obedient and loyal dog. She was smart - and even funny sometimes. I often told her that she was my Favorite Girl, the Best Dog, such a Good Girl, etc.
She really was.
