Goodbye, good boy.

My boyfriend and I had to put our beloved dog down on Christmas Eve. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to help decide and definitely the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

The dog in question was Tye, an absolutely gorgeous Rhodesian Ridgeback X Shar-pei, who looked more like a portly bear cub than a dog.

He was my boyfriend’s pet first but once we started living together, he eventually wriggled his way into my heart. Tye and my little fluffy dog made a hilarious duo and would spend hours hunting lizards and barking at people.

When he first started getting sick the vet didn’t believe us. I won’t get into the issues Tye had, as the symptoms were subtle for ages (easily confused with other things, and I don’t want to panic anyone) before things got unimaginably bad over the course over about a week. The situation all came to ahead on Christmas Eve. He was only three years old.

The worst part? It was probably caused by a kick to the stomach when he was a puppy (we adopted him as an adult) and we definitely could have helped him if the vet listened to us earlier.

Vets are like most professions in the sense that you really have to trust what you’re being told is reliable and you like to think that they have the same interest and care for your animal as you do.

That was not the case here… Our worries were brushed off, explained as something else even. Our calls were sometimes ignored and once we reached the point of saying “Screw this, we have to take him somewhere else” it was too late.

My partner had called a different veterinary practice to come to the house to put him down. Two lovely women showed up, and from the moment they got there until the moment he left: Tye was wagging his tail. They explained the process, let us hold him and cry our hearts out, and finally Tye was pain free.

We on the other hand; our pain was just starting.

Every time I glanced to the couch where he would normally sleep an ache would start to happen in my throat from the tears I was holding back. My boyfriend withdrew into his shell and we asked ourselves everyday if there was something else we could have done. Our remaining dog was bored and sad and we all just could have done with a big hug.

About 2 weeks afterwards we got a card in the mail, from the vets that had come to our house and shown such compassion and love to Tye and ourselves. It basically was a condolences card, expressing their sympathies for our loss of Tye and stating that he “was a beautiful dog who was very loved”.

We broke down in relief and grief. Finally! Someone could see what a hole was left in our world from the shock passing of Tye. It was incredibly considerate and really helped us with moving forwards from the grief and guilt. We did the best we could, these women knew it. For a second that’s all that mattered. They didn’t have to do it; we had paid our account and would have used their services going forward anyway…. But they took the time to reach out and it honestly gave us so much hope for the future.

Good people who do things for no other reason than being good do exist, and we were lucky enough to find some at the vets. It’s a long way for the grief to heal, but I can say that that letter really made a difference to how we were seeing the whole thing. It wasn’t our fault, we did our best, and one day we will love another dog again.