(November 19, 2017 at 11:31 pm)Kernel Sohcahtoa Wrote: This past Thursday morning, I had to put down my pug (he was anywhere from 17-19 years old): he had Lymphoma for about 2.5 months. He had lost interest in eating the foods that he once went nuts for, and he just grew very weak: earlier that morning, his whimpers along with the discontented expression on his face, told me that it was probably that time to say goodbye to him. As a result, after I had made the decision to put him down and then participated in the process (massaging his head as the doctor made the injection into his hind leg), I definitely felt heartbroken when the doctor said that he was gone. Once I got home, I felt extremely alone: losing Dude reminded me of how fond I had grown of him and how much I really loved him--all I could think about was that first moment when I grew attached to him and formed my friendship with him over the course of multiple visits to my sister's home (he originally belonged to my sister), which often ended with me taking him home and hanging out with him and giving him special food.
It's a very hard thing to go through.
Sorry for your loss.
Playing Cluedo with my mum while I was at Uni:
"You did WHAT? With WHO? WHERE???"
