Heartbroken...

That's how I feel right now. Yesterday had to have been one of the hardest days of my life. We had to put our oldest dog, Guiedo, to sleep.

Marc and I rescued Guiedo as a puppy from animal control about a month before we got married in 1998. Someone had dropped him at a rest stop in Chattanooga, and a couple found him and brought him back to Huntsville. Unfortunately, their big dog kept attacking Guiedo, so they had to take him to the pound. When we found him, he had a big cut across his forehead. He was the sweetest little puppy, and although I was against it, we adopted him and took him home with us.

A few days later, he started to get very, very sick. We took him to the vet and found out that he had Parvo. Since he was so little, they told us he probably wouldn't survive, but we were already attached and were willing to do whatever needed to be done. He stayed with the vet for a week while they pumped him full of medicine. Then they finally told us that he was going to make it, much to their surprise. I picked him and took him home again.

The next month, Marc and I got married. Since Guiedo had just gotten over being sick, we took him with us. He even wore a bow tie at our reception! Everyone at our wedding fell in love with him, and he loved every minute of the attention.

Guiedo went on without a hitch until a few years ago when he developed a hernia. Again, he got very sick very fast, but our vet was able to do surgery to repair the damage. We knew then that if the hernia ever came back that it would not be able to repaired again. But we counted on the fact that we were "buying" a few more years with him.

Since then, the hernia has come and gone, but on Friday night we noticed that Guiedo was not feeling well. We debated about what to do, but agreed that as long as he didn't seem to be in pain, we would let nature take its course. On Tuesday night, though, he seemed to take a turn for the worst. We didn't want to take him to the emergency vet because he still wasn't showing any signs of being in pain. But he just wasn't himself.

Yesterday morning before I left for work, I went to check on him and tell him goodbye. He looked up at me with a look that told me all I needed to know. It was time to let him go. Somehow I made it through the morning, but I called Marc at lunch time and broke down. My wonderful principal told me that I could leave to spend some time with him before we had to take him to the vet. I sobbed all the way home.

When I got home, he had moved positions but didn't get up when I walked into the room. I got down on the floor with him and cried some more while I was petting him. I gave him a bone, and he ate it. Then I managed to get him into the living room so he could look out the front door, since he always loved doing that. Much to my surprise, he wanted to go outside so I took him. He stumbled down the steps and around the yard, then I took him back inside. He laid down on the floor, and I petted him until my mom came to stay with me.

A few minutes later, Marc came home. We fed Guiedo some fresh Krispy Kreme donuts and loved on him some more. By this time, he was shaking pretty badly. Marc asked him if he wanted to go outside again, and he stumbled to the door almost falling several times. He made it outside, and Marc laid out his blanket on the front yard.

When our appointment time got closer, Marc loaded Gueido and his blanket into the back of my mom's car and gave him one last donut. My mom drove them to the vet, because I didn't think I would be able to handle it. The vet agreed that it was time to let him go. Marc was able to hold Guiedo and pet him until he passed away.

I'm still very sad today and cry frequently. Part of it seems so surreal, but then I have to remind myself that we did the right thing. We needed to do what was right for him and not keep him here for selfish reasons. He had a good life, and he was the greatest dog ever. There will never be another one like him. 

I love you Guied-ster!