Just after my last post, and leading into Labor Day weekend, my beloved dog Diesel got sick. He stopped eating, he was behaving very old (he was 10). I took him to the vet, had some bloodwork done and was given pain pills to give him since he seemed to be in a lot of pain in his hips.
I did not really see what was coming that day. We went home, and by afternoon, he needed my help to stand up from a lying position. By Sunday, his back end was collapsing and I knew what I had to do as soon as the vet opened on Monday. He was failing fast.
Sunday night I slept by him, because he would scrabble and panic trying to get up to go to bed with me.
The same on Monday, except by that night I could barely get him outside for a pee. I encouraged the girls to spend a little time with him before bed, since I knew the next morning was the last time they would see him.
Tuesday morning, I call my mom because I can't leave the dog alone, but I MUST go to work, its my first day at a new job. She stayed with him, and helped me put him in her SUV early afternoon when I had completed my first day. We took him to the vet's office, and I went inside to get help to carry him in. He died waiting for me to come back out.
I had to go to school that night and start a new course. One of the more difficult days in my life, I must say.
And it only gets better from here.
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