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Bye bye Griffin

I know it's already been over a week since this happened, but I felt like I couldn't get back to writing anything normal until I mention the sad events of this year's Leap Year.  I was at work, waiting for the weekend to begin when I got a call from my roommate saying that Griffin had gotten out of the yard again.  My first reaction was to sigh in mock annoyance because this would be the third or fourth time that he's done that.  But then everything changed when she said, "No, it's worse than that."

My poor, sweet puppy was hit by a car... right in front of my house.  We live on a fairly busy street in Kirkwood that a lot of people use instead of taking N. Kirkwood Rd. to bypass the downtown area, so of course there were a lot of people out and about at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon.  When Julie and Kristen walked across the street towards the crowd that had already grown around him they talked to a neighbor guy who was watching over him, the lady who hit him (and thankfully was kind enough to stop even though there was nothing she could do) and a neighbor family whose little girl saw the whole thing happen.  They took him to the Webster Groves Animal Hospital and that's where I met them.

Ugh, it was just really, really sad.  He seemed okay thanks to the effects of shock and good pain killers, but his back legs were broken, his spleen and bladder were ruptured, and he had a massive blood clot developing in his stomach area.  After talking to the vet and looking over the x-rays I went home for a bit to calm down (I had been bawling nearly the whole time I was there) so that I could decide what to do.  Unfortunately, I came to the conclusion that it would be best to put him to sleep.  Seriously, it was one of the hardest decisions I've had to make in my whole life. 

I always knew that someday I'd have a pet that would have to be put down, but I always assumed that that would be in a case where the dog was old and ready to go.  It seemed incredibly wrong to be in a position where you put a young, vibrant animal to death.  The whole ordeal has made me feel terrible.  I know he was in a lot of pain and would have had to go through a lot of surgeries that didn't come with any guarantees, but I still wonder if I did the right thing.  Now I have the bitter feeling that in order to be a truly responsible pet owner you need to have at least ten thousand dollars lying around in case of emergencies, but I know I'm not the only one out there that doesn't have that option. 

So, after I had calmed down I went back up to the hospital to sign all the papers and say goodbye.  Thank God Danny was with me because I don't know if I could have handled that on my own.  I knew I couldn't bear to be there when they actually put him to sleep, but I did want to go back there one more time to pat his head and give him a kiss.  I was selfishly relieved that they had him on so many pain killers because if I saw him writhing in pain I think I would have lost it.  That wasn't a worry though because the most the poor guy was able to do was sleepily open up his eyes and lift his head a little bit to look at me.  I stayed there with him for a little bit just talking to him and watching him breathe before I felt that it was time to go.  It still breaks my heart (and makes me cry even as I type this) to remember how when I walked away I looked back at him and I saw him watching me leave.   But  even then he closed his eyes again, as if he was either too exhausted to keep his eyes open or resigned to the fact that his time was up. 

I got a card today in the mail from the vet at WGAH who took care of him and I thought that was really sweet.  Even though my last visit there was for the worst reason possible, I can at least take comfort knowing that they did a really great job.  I definitely plan on making a donation to them and maybe also to the Humane Society where I bought him. 

Someday I'll get another dog, but it probably won't be for a while. 

                                   

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