.:Life:.

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He's gone, now.

Mom and Dad took me home today to say goodbye. Wibaux looked so weak. He barely lifted his head to me, but when we got him inside (he wanted to stay on the deck until we called him inside), he refused to sit or lay down. He walked up to me...slowly...shakily...and let me pet his head. When I moved back to give him some room to lay down, he just took a shaky step towards me and bowed his head.

I spent several minutes petting him when finally he lay down. I took a piece of good watercolor paper and painted his paw with some acrylic paint before we loaded him in the car to take to the vet.

There was a brilliant sunset on the way there...the sun was just beginning to die in the west when we took him in.

He wagged his tail gently at the vet's assistant. In his younger years, he would have knocked her over. He stood there silently when the vet came back in. She told me about the procedure...and that it was the right thing to do.

She took him away to get an iv stick in him so it would be as gentle as possible. They brought him back and set him on a blanket. I spent several minutes running my hands over the length of the body to calm him down. He wasn't panicking or anything...but he was picking up on our tension and grief and knew something wasn't right. After several calming breaths from me and long strokes, he laid down on the blanket.

I kept looking up at Mom and Dad...I don't think I could actually tell the vet it was time...and finally I whispered that I would never be able to tell her it was time.

The vet told me she didn't want to rush me...and for me to take my time.

I told her I didn't want to prolong it.

She and I switched places so that she was at the leg with the iv stick. Mom tearfully told me to hold his head and pet him...

...the vet told me to love on him.

I held his head gently...and gazed over at the vet.

Wibaux died in my arms today. He was 11...would have been 12 come next March. He was a good dog...a wonderful dog.

Dad said they left him in the livingroom last night...and also said he somehow made it up the stairs. He said Wibaux probably slept in my room last night...

The hardest part was leaving the room after they had put him to sleep. I let his head rest back against the blanket...he was so limp...

When we got back out the the car, it was dark.

So...again, I'm sorry if my comments and notes are less than vibrant. I just feel drawn out and exhausted...and I miss my dog.

immi

.:Art.Status:.

Please let me know if I owe you any art. I think I'm clear right now, but please...please let me know if I owe you anything so I can write you down. D: