He would have turned 13 this month.
He’s been gone for over 150 days, and yet, it feels like yesterday.
I still tear up when I talk about him, think about him, or see a photo pop up on my phone.
Huckleberry Finn McDonald, also known as Huck, Hucky Bear, and Huckster, among many other nicknames, we affectionately called him.
He was my heart and soul dog. He was there before both of my kids. He lived through our three miscarriages and was right by my side. He traveled cross-country with us for our wedding. We drove two hours north to adopt him from a rescue when he was only four months old.
I knew this day would come eventually. My husband and I had talked about it, but we usually avoided even the slightest mention of it, almost as if not saying it out loud would stop it from happening completely (if only). But knowing it was going to happen and being prepared for it to happen were two completely different things.
The signs started to show up gradually–moving more slowly, having a hard time getting up and down on the couch, spending more time snuggled up on a dog bed or in his crate, and the other typical signs of aging. I talked to him every day and always told him to let me know when it’s time, so I didn’t have to make the decision on my own. But we decided to make him a vet appointment just to have him checked out, and it was then that we realized the time had finally come.
Our fantastic vet, who has been with us for years, told us he was in multiple organ failure, severely anemic, and likely had a tumor near his back legs, causing the mobility issues. I remember sitting there in the vet office with him in the wagon (we didn’t want him to have to walk too far) and crying hysterically, knowing there was nothing we could do to fix him. No amount of money, miracle medicine, or emergency surgery would save our sweet boy. My husband and I decided early on that if we were going to have to make this decision to put him down, we would do it at home, where the smells and sights are familiar and where he is most comfortable.
As we left the vet, I had to call Lap of Love to make an appointment for them to come out to the house…I dialed the number multiple times and hung up before I ever got a live person at least twice. How was I supposed to make this appointment? The appointment that would take away the sweetest soul I’ve ever known? How do you choose the day that your dog dies? When I finally mustered up the courage, I still couldn’t make myself do it the first time, so I offered to call them back later. I talked with Ryan, and we decided on Thursday, November 20th. That would give us two more days with him, time to explain it to the kids, and the chance to give him all the love we could before he leaves us.
For the next two days, it felt like time stood still yet moved so very quickly. Every time I left the room, I was afraid to go back in and find him not breathing. Going to school every day, I just hoped and prayed that he would still be in the same spot when I got home. And each day, he would still be there, laying on the dog bed in the kitchen, lifting his head up to greet me because the rest of his body was too weak to move. At this point, he was not eating or drinking much of anything (which for him was the telltale sign that it was time…he’s a hound dog; he’s always scrounging for food!)
Thursday arrived, and it felt like I had a black cloud over my head all day…I didn’t want to talk to anyone because as soon as someone asked, I would break into tears. But eventually, 5:30 pm arrived, and the wonderful vet, Dr. Cassie, from Lap of Love came into our house. She was the sweetest lady and walked us through the entire process. We decided to leave our other dog, Brody, out with him, since they had been best friends for 12 years. We laid with him on the dog bed in the middle of the kitchen floor until she gave him the medicine to make him sleepy. At that point, Brody started to growl at the vet, thinking she was trying to hurt his buddy, and we put Brody back in his crate. We both held Huck’s paw until he took his very last breath as the tears continued to stream down both of our faces. It was probably one of the hardest moments of my entire life, but I’m so thankful for Lap of Love and that we were able to be at home with him. I cannot fathom how anyone chooses to be a hospice doctor who willingly stares death in the face on a regular basis, but they are truly angels on Earth for doing what they do.
