Sinclaire - Why?
by Randy Saxour
My name is Randy and my adorable cocker spaniel's name is Sinclaire (since she lives on in my heart). She was 13 and very active and always had a healthy appetite, even if it was people food she adored. About a month ago she went into congestive heart failure so we took her to the vet. The practice gave her a lasik and some medicine that ended in April for her heart problem.
As soon as we started giving her the medicine she changed. She became very quiet and would not eat very much and started having accidents all over the house. I came to the conclusion that it was the lasiks she was taking that was causing the accidents.
Then about a week ago, she had a stroke that basically paralyzed her tongue, not allowing her to feel or taste what she was eating. We tried everything, even force feeding and nothing worked. So on Sunday my son and I decided that we could see it wasn't going to be long before we had to do something.
Sunday night she ate a little roast beef and I don't know if it was because she had seen us so upset or if she just wanted to please us. Then my son let her out Monday morning @ 3:00 a.m. and all she did was sit and look around.
Today I wonder if she sensed it was going to be her last time in the front yard. I called our vet and we took her in and I cried all the way there and she just stood so proud in the front seat with my son holding her. It was the most energy she had in a week.
When we get there we go into the examining room and my son and I wait for the vet. The vet comes in and confirms that she is in bad shape. They take her and put a port in her leg. The whole time I am wondering why God would let this happen to such a special pet. By the way I am still pissed at God and I know it sounds terrible.
Vet returns with Sinclaire and she is on the table and I ask the vet if this is the right time to do this and she replies yes. I even told her if you give her food through the port would we be able to keep her alive for a few more weeks. She told me I was just putting off the inevitable.
I cried and hugged my dear Sinclaire and told her that I was doing what I thought was best for her. She seemed relaxed and they did the procedure of putting her down. My son and I have cried almost every 15 minutes since this started and I feel that my heart is a jigsaw puzzle with pieces I can't put together. I have even went as far as to tell my son I killed her. I can't believe the grief I feel. I want the pain to stop.
We have another dog Sadie Mae, also a cocker, that is 8 years old and exactly the opposite. She is not friendly except to us and doesn't like kids. Last night she roamed through the house looking for Claire and when she goes out to potty she runs to the car doors looking for Claire. That breaks my heart too.
When do you realize you did what was best and when does your heart heal?