Over the years, I have watched TV shows where people have had to euthanize their Golden Retrievers, and I always cry. The thought of the pink cocktail being pushed into Fonz's leg used to make me bawl almost instantaneously. I've made so many life decisions based on Fonz, it seemed unimaginable that he won't be here one day. As he has gotten older, I have realized that it will happen someday, hopefully not soon, but it is something that I will deal with when it happens. (don't get me wrong, I will be a wreck and probably miss work, and I have no idea what life would be like without him) Fortunately, I have friends in the vet industry, and so I won't have to take that dreaded car ride into the vet's office...we can put him to rest in the comfort of our own home.
Yesterday was the day The Fonz and I went to the doctor. He just needed a little bloodwork done, and I had to get my finger operated on. Easy stuff. So we are sitting in the vet's office, waiting for the tech to come and take him back to visit all of his friends, and in walks 3 grown men and a black lab.
I didn't think much of it, but the dog looked tired. When he sat down, his right back leg splayed out in a way that I have never seen before, his hip had to of come completely out of his socket. I figured, well...that's why he's here. Maybe he's getting x-rays or meds or something. One of the men crouched down and offered him one of the several slices of cheese that he had in his hand. This should've been a HUGE clue. Three grown men, one holding cheese, sick dog. But no...I didn't get it.
The poor dog refused the cheese, and here is where I am an ass. I opened my mouth and said something to the effect "Oh...he just doesn't want to be here." I got a sad look from crouching man, and just then, one of the other men said to the receptionist, "Yeah, we're here to put him down."
GEEZ!!! What an ass I am!! Three grown men never take one dog to the vet, (and these guys were tough-looking, like duck hunters or something) unless they are there to say good-bye. And then I have to go and open my mouth and be the insensitive chick in the waiting room with the very healthy-looking Golden Retriever who wants to maul your sick dog. Fortunately, they were quickly ushered into a room, and the tech came for Fonz. He literally pranced. The exact opposite picture of the poor, coughing black lab. It's abnormal how much my dog loves the vet.
(As a side note, we weighed Fonz. It's official, he is not just fluffy, he is fat. To the tune of about 10lbs overweight. That's a heck of a lot of winter weight to work off in the spring...we'll have to walk together, or something)
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