Today I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life. Starting Wednesday of the holiday break, Souly started to throw up. It happened once Wednesday and once Thursday, but it wasn't until Friday that we really noticed a change in him. He seemed a bit mopey, and he threw up twice that day. He had just been to the vet for his annual shots on Tuesday, so I thought that he must just be having a bad reaction to his medication. I thought we could wait until Monday to take him back to the vet and have him looked at. Rachel and I left my parents house on Saturday so that she could pack and get ready for her trip to Florida for the week. That night, last night he must have thrown up 7-8 times. I was literally following him around with a bucket catching it when I could. He wouldn't eat anything, and anytime he drank he just threw it up. I took away his water at about 2 am, hoping that he wouldn't throw up again before the morning. He did.
This morning he was wobbly, and by now he felt like he was just skin and bone. This was the third day of not really eating or being able to drink. Rachel and i loaded up the car and headed to the airport, and on the way home from dropping her off I got a terrible, sick feeling in my stomach. My eyes started to tear and I thought, "What if he's dead when I get home?" I walked in the door and was so relieved when he lifted his head when i walked in. I cleaned his water bowl out, filled it with fresh water and took him and Padme outside for some fresh air. He drank a little, held it down, then drank some more. He walked around the yard, and though he was shaky, he seemed to be a little bit better.
I brought him in, and he seemed fine for almost an hour, then he threw up again. "That's it!" I said. "We're not waiting anymore." I couldn't stand it, I wasn't going to let him go three days without food or water. I grabbed his leash and we headed out to the car. He had a little trouble getting in, but he always loves going for a ride. The emergency clinic was just a few exits down and actually pretty busy, the vet was able to get to us pretty quickly. Everyone was really nice, and the vet had me listen to Souly's heart after she did.
"His heart rate is running at 170," she told me, "It should normally run around 80-100." This meant that he was in a lot of pain. She said that his stomach was hard and that she needed to do an x-ray to be sure. Sure enough there was some kind of blockage in his stomach. They couldn't be sure if it was a foreign object, or some kind of growing mass, but either way it was going to require surgery. This would entail admitting him, and having IV fluids for 2-3 days so that he wouldn't go into surgery dehydrated. A dog of 13 years old though, had no guarantee that he could even survive a procedure like that.
I now had a choice to make. I could let nature take it's course, and he would die in a couple of days from starvation or dehydration. I could turn him over to a vet to possibly live his last remaining days in a kennel, sedated, and lonely. or I could end it now before he suffered anymore. I took him for a walk. We walked all over the place for about 30 minutes before it began to look like he couldn't do it anymore. We went back to the vet and I told her that I was ready. Souly and I sat there on the floor together for about 20 minutes. He laid his head in my lap and I cried. I cried harder that I have in a long time and it hurt so much to say goodbye. The vet came it and asked me if I was ready. All I could do was nod my head. He already had a catheter in his leg, so he didn't even feel the injection. The vet stayed there, listening to his heart the whole time. He slowly drifted off to sleep, I pet him, told him he was a good dog and just held his head in my lap.
"He's gone." she said. It seemed like it took forever, but it happened so fast.
We wrapped him up and took him in a stretcher out to my car. By the time I got to my parents house my brothers had already dug a hole for him. He was buried at the back of their property with brick for a headstone and his leash wrapped around it. Even though it was 9 o'clock at night, pitch black, raining, and cold we all went out and said goodbye.
I got Souly my Sophomore year at SWT in San Marcos in 1994. He was with me since college and pretty much all of my adult life. He saved my ass several times when we lived in New Orleans, and was probably the best dog I'll ever own. He was always top dog everywhere he went and never once backed out of a fight. He loved to go on walks, loved to ride in the car and go swimming, but couldn't care less about playing fetch. He was my best friend, and oldest companion. He will be missed.
