Sunday, August 17, 2014

It's Time To Get The Dogs Deaded

One of the first things I did this morning after I woke up was to step in dog
which is what I yelled and what I stepped in.
Jessie, Vergil, and Mr. Moon were all sitting in the kitchen and they looked at me, three pairs of eyes, trained on me.
"It's time," Vergil said. They all nodded. "It's time," they all said.
I just looked at them, made a pfft sound out of my mouth and gave them a look like, "Goddam DUH!"

They had already cleaned up other pees, poops, and vomits this morning. And had a discussion. And now they were informing me of their decision.
This week. I swear to you. This week those dogs are going to go to their final forever home and it IS time and if I'm waiting for them to truly be in pain then that's a mistake because they obviously are already in pain and they're blind and can't find their way out of a door and Dolly hardly eats and then she vomits and my god it's been time.

The thought of living in a house without them makes me feel as if I'm looking towards the light. Too good to be true. I'm even thinking of hiring someone, after they're gone, to come in and deep clean this house. It needs it desperately and it would be the best gift I've ever given myself.

So. We all had a nice breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast and the two biggest tomatoes that Jessie and Vergil brought with them, sliced red and gorgeous and juicy. Then Jessie and Vergil packed up and loaded their car and told the old dogs good-bye.
"You've been a good dog, Buster," Vergil said as he patted the old blind beast.
"Well..." I thought.

They got in the car after all our kisses and hugs and Greta joyfully loaded into the backseat, tail wagging, head between her two humans. They are going to put in a few more hours at their house before they leave town but will be hitting the road from Tallahassee.

And so it goes. They'll be back by the second week of October with all of their stuff and they'll move in and it will be a whole different chapter in all of our lives.

As will it be for me when Buster and Dolly are released from the bonds of this mortal existence. When we get them "deaded," which is our new favorite term around here.

The damn thing is, I'll probably cry like crazy when they go. Or maybe I won't. And maybe if I do, it'll be from sheer relief. No more pee and poop or vomit. No more forcing them to go outside to pee and poop (fruitless endeavor, obviously), no more taking them to the groomers, no more having furniture and pillows ruined by them. No more dog hair. No more having to get up fifteen times in half an hour to let them in and out of the back door if the air conditioner or heater is on and I can't leave the door opened. No more telling Buster to quit eating the cat food. No more being woken up by his bumbling and scratching around the room in the darkest hours of the night. No more buying thirty dollars of flea and tick treatment a month that doesn't even really work for them anyway.

Of course, no more watching Gibson hug Buster around his middle, leaning his head on him and kissing him either. Okay. That's about the only thing I'll miss. That's some sweetness right there. There's no denying that.

I'll get over it. So will Gibson.

All of us must die eventually, must eventually step on out of here except perhaps...Keith Richards.

Here's a little thing Robin Williams did about him on Broadway.

Rest in peace, dear Robin.

Don't ever die, sweet Keith.

Happy Sunday From The Church Of The Batshit Crazy.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I am sooooo happy with the decision. Yay!

    And here's hoping somebody deads me when it's my time, too, if I can't do it myself.

  2. Four years ago my second last cat was at that stage and because I was really ill at the time, we used to lock her into the laundry room overnight and in the morning we would hose down the floor and walls. She spent all night walking and shitting and vomiting. And still, all I could do was carry her around with me all day, having her sleep with me etc. and every morning I was afraid to open the door, that she would be dead, oh no!
    We carefully prepared the eventual trip to the vet, timed it for a Saturday to have the weekend free to get a grip and so on. But you know what? It was "just" total relief, for us and for her. We buried her behind the raspberry bushes and that was that.

    I hope it will be "just" that for you as well. You are doing the right thing. I am sure they are in pain, most old dogs are.

    I hope

  3. I'm happy for you to have the group help you decide that it's time. It is time, yes? You deserve to not step in shit every day. Your poor dogs had a good life. It won't be any easier saying goodbye to them now or a few days or weeks from now when they finally die on their own, because they are not long for this world, no matter what you do or don't do.

    But I'm a practical girl and I have my limits, so I'd get it done now too. But I'd have somebody come with me, you don't want to do that alone. Oddly, when my ancient and dying old cat had to be put down I took my very young daughter and she was so good about understanding and petting the kitty with me she went to sleep forever. It was peaceful. Kids are so accepting of the obvious, and I don't ever regret having her there with me, it made it easier for all of us, the vet included.

    And I would totally hire a crew to deep clean for me! Do it, please, as a gift to yourself. You'll have your hands full with Maurice and the flock to tend to.

    And thank you for the funny Robin clip. I'm still trying to process that he's gone, and hope he is at peace now.


  4. I'm glad you have made this decision and have had it made for you. And yes, definitely hire someone to clean the house. It will be a good exercise in self care.

  5. Do it. Do both things. Having someone come in and detail your house will be wonderful. I know because I recently did it and it was worth every penny. I recommend a turtle for a pet. Very low maintenance.

  6. I once looked after a little boy who loved, loved, loved his cat. His parents decided not to tell him that his cat was hit by a car and died and was buried in the back yard. One day he asked me where his cat was and I panicked. The only answer I could think of was, "In the back yard". Not technically a lie.

    I am glad you are giving those dogs their release. They can go to the damn Rainbow Bridge.

  7. May they rest in peace those dear dogs of yours.

    And I loved the video -- hilarious and even more poignant than ever --

  8. NOLA- If only we could make that choice for ourselves. I am very serious about that.

    Sabine- Animals can't just walk up to us and say, "Hey. I'm hurting. You got anything you could do about that?" Of course, when they are in acute pain, they can relay that message but who knows how much they tolerate on a daily basis at the end-times? Your relief and your husband's relief was a sure sign that you had made the right decision. I am going to remember that.
    Thank you for taking the time to tell me that story.

    Mel- I can see Owen going with us. He is so very sanguine about death right now. I wonder if it's because he doesn't really understand it or, on the other hand, because he really does and doesn't get emotionally involved in it. I don't know.
    As to the cleaning- oh god. If I can only make myself do it. Have the courage to ASK for the help which of course is not really asking for help (except from my husband who would pay for it) because the person or persons would be paid. I think I am embarrassed at the level of dust and dirt I've allowed to collect. I'm good at sweeping and even mopping and keeping the bathrooms semi-clean but oh, this Lloyd dirty dust and how it collects and how I've let it! And the clutter...
    I'm glad you liked the video. I loved it even though it was not true that Keith got his blood exchanged.

    Ms. Vesuvius- I will try to see it that way. Thank you, sweetie.

    Ellen Abbott- I intend to stick with my cat and the chickens for the rest of my life. And of course my spiders, who are only seasonal pets.

    Birdie- That's hysterical! And reminds me of when I used to do guerilla cleaning and would throw away old broken toys and when my kids would ask where they were, I would say quite truthfully, "I have no idea," which was true because even though I was pretty sure they were at the dump, who knew WHERE at the dump they might actually be?"

    Elizabeth- Those "dear dogs". Haha! I adore you. And I'm glad you liked the video. Williams did a pretty spot-on impression of Keith, didn't he?

  9. I understand and the animals let us know when it is time and quality of life is no longer good. Tomorrow is Pandora's time. Circle of life.

  10. It must be good to have the decision made, though going through with it will be no picnic. Of course you'll miss some things about the dogs, but you'll also feel incredible relief, as you said. It definitely sounds like it's time. And yes, hire that person to clean your house!

  11. Ah Ms. Moon, we can. Physician-assisted suicide is legal in Oregon, and there are countless incidences of one doing it for oneself or having a loved one do it. If I don't have the good sense to die when it's my time, I'll hopefully have the capacity to do it myself. And all my friends know that they are to make sure it happens.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.