August 16, 2013, Friday. 7:00 pm.
The vet said Daisy is going downhill fast. That was maybe three weeks ago. She said Daisy might make it until the end of summer and we should understand that we are now in end-of-life care. I didn’t believe her. Daisy and I, we’ve been taking walks in the morning, she’s been all tail-waggy and engaged. She hangs out with us on the patio in the evenings, she jumps on the bed to sleep with us at night, she makes sure we are always all where we’re supposed to be (even the cats). She is happy, not ready to go. I gave her ’til the end of the year.
She’s only bones and fur, now, and the fur is falling out fast. I worried about how we’d keep her comfortable once the cool weather started. We’re clever, though; we’d come up with something to make our bag-of-bones puppy warm enough in the winter.
This week, she’s stopped eating. Not full-out stopped but it’s a battle to get anything down her. I’m resorting to all sorts of tricks. Cat food, peanut butter, cheese…whatever it takes to get a few bites in her. Each day, she eats less. Today, she had a handful of frosted mini-wheats and nothing more.
We took a walk this morning but she didn’t want to go far. Her tail wagged the whole time but she was quick to lead us home where she went up to the bedroom and curled up in her spot. I left for work. When I came back, she didn’t run to greet me. She was on the bed, waiting.
Now she only wants to go outside if she absolutely has to pee, no longer caring to hang out in the yard because the cats and I are out there. She wants to be in her spot by my side of the bed or up on the bed, itself.
She’s all bones. Bones and fur that’s falling out. But she still wags her tail when I say her name.
August 17th, Saturday. 3:00 pm
We just finished burying Daisy May in the backyard. The vet showed up a little after 2:00 pm and Daisy made her last stand – she jumped up, trotted her best trot, and barked. Then she went back to bed and collapsed.
My parents came by this morning to say goodbye. That made her happy; she loved them. They loved her, too. Gabe and I, Toki and Evie, we were all there when the vet put the magic death potion into her paw. We all watched her, petted her, made sure she knew she wasn’t alone and that she was so very loved.
Next spring, we will plant flowers on her. Daisies. She can push them up from below.