Venetia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
venetia_sassy) wrote2013-11-30 11:58 pm
venetia_sassy) wrote2013-11-30 11:58 pm
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RIP The Boyo
One of the most important things I meant to post about - it was about six weeks ago now, on the 16th October, that the Boyo died. He made it to thirteen years old and he was happy. He was skinny and his breathing was dreadful at night and my god, the amount of snot he produced - but he still loved his food and his walks and pouncing on the squeaky ball. Friends of mine came over on the Saturday and he had lots of pats and cuddles and he even played fetch with one of them rather than just having the ball tossed for him to catch. But he just kept getting weaker and his symptoms got worse.
He had some kind of seizure early Monday morning (I woke at the odd noises) and threw up, then peed on the floor before he could make it outside. An hour later, he was asking for breakfast but sitting outside on the lawn with him in the cold predawn, I honestly would not have been surprised if he'd died then and there.
We'd asked the vet to visit him at home to assess him but we were already sure. He was tired. We called Brother and he tried to find some kind of answer that would fix things and we had to tell him that we'd already thought of/tried all those things. He came over and we had a little play with the Boyo and Brother cried quietly the whole time. I saw a tear splash on the floor.
The vet came - one of the original members of the practice, who's been looking after our family's pets since before I was born. It was very peaceful. More so than Lady Muck. The Boyo just lay down and went to sleep.
As with Lady Muck, we had him cremated, but haven't buried the ashes yet because Brother wanted to be here but it might not happen.
I wrote this that night:
I held his head and he quietly fell asleep with his head heavy in my hands. It was calm and quiet and peaceful and just what I was afraid he wouldn't get. So I'm glad for that.
But the house is very quiet. Mum's gone to bed and Miss Shadow is in the study and there's no snoring dog beside me to keep an eye on.
We took Miss Shadow for a walk in the evening when it cooled down and Mum surprised herself by crying again - she missed her grey shadow trotting beside her.
The Boyo, the night before he died
He had some kind of seizure early Monday morning (I woke at the odd noises) and threw up, then peed on the floor before he could make it outside. An hour later, he was asking for breakfast but sitting outside on the lawn with him in the cold predawn, I honestly would not have been surprised if he'd died then and there.
We'd asked the vet to visit him at home to assess him but we were already sure. He was tired. We called Brother and he tried to find some kind of answer that would fix things and we had to tell him that we'd already thought of/tried all those things. He came over and we had a little play with the Boyo and Brother cried quietly the whole time. I saw a tear splash on the floor.
The vet came - one of the original members of the practice, who's been looking after our family's pets since before I was born. It was very peaceful. More so than Lady Muck. The Boyo just lay down and went to sleep.
As with Lady Muck, we had him cremated, but haven't buried the ashes yet because Brother wanted to be here but it might not happen.
I wrote this that night:
I held his head and he quietly fell asleep with his head heavy in my hands. It was calm and quiet and peaceful and just what I was afraid he wouldn't get. So I'm glad for that.
But the house is very quiet. Mum's gone to bed and Miss Shadow is in the study and there's no snoring dog beside me to keep an eye on.
We took Miss Shadow for a walk in the evening when it cooled down and Mum surprised herself by crying again - she missed her grey shadow trotting beside her.
The Boyo, the night before he died