We had to take Lola down to the vet on Wednesday, for the last time. She was so sweet and trusting, it was a heartbreaking thing. She was 13 1/2 and she wasn't doing well. All good and well to say that you did the best thing, still heartbreaking.
Losing your dog is hard, but the day it happens isn't the only painful day. For a long time afterwards, it's the thoughts that run through your head each day that cause such grief. Stepping wide around a spot in the floor where she always lay, waiting for you. The thought that, when you get the eggs out to make breakfast that you'll make an extra one for her. The way the cats sort of sit around, wondering what is going on. The worry of hurrying home to feed her, then realizing that that isn't really a problem.
Some people can't understand how much a pet affects your life, but those people may find out some day. Or not. I've known people who came into a pet late in life and cared even more for their pets, almost as if making up for years of lost love and affection. This was the fourth dog that I have had to "put to sleep" in my adult life and it just doesn't get any easier. It makes you wonder if it's worth it. For a while. Then some wriggly, little person shows up and steals your heart and makes you feel glad again. (Yes, person).
RIP, Lola. Keep an eye out for Iris and Ozzy. We miss you all.