As some of you have already noticed (and thank you again for your kind words of support), I added a new picture to my sidebar of my fur-baby (I own it wifey) – the aforementioned Dementia Dog – Marshmallow.
This is him a few weeks after I got him:
This is him a few weeks before he turned 19 years old on March 29th:
My poor baby…
On this past Sunday we made the likely long overdue but heartbreaking decision to have him put to sleep. He was in pain. It was time.
But as I told the vet when she asked if I wanted more time with him – both before and after the procedure – it would never be enough time.
But it was time.
So I was a mess on Sunday.
I was catatonic on Monday.
I was going through the motions on Tuesday.
I was okay on Wednesday until a coworker asked about him. I hadn’t told anyone.
Yesterday was better than the previous four. Until I got home. And hubs handed me the box containing his ashes.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because the beautiful cherry-stained wooden box, with shiny brass hinges and hasp, came with an engraved brass plaque with his name on it.
He was a laidback dog, but still. There is no ‘E’ in Marshmallow!
Do you know what that’s doing to my OCD? I send coworker Officer Vajayjay’s texts back to him spell checked! I can’t stand misspelled words. It eats at me like people who park their shopping carts in the ‘H’ position.
But maybe I’ll get used to it.
Maybe all I need is more time.