All the Recaps: Goodbye My Moo

Oh, how I hate that I have to write this post. I cannot tell you how much I was dreading that day. I had been watching my girl decline over the past year and knew that the last few months of her life were, indeed, her last. I tried to soak up the days, but watching her struggle to get up and to walk were heartbreaking.

My husband kept thinking that she wasn't ready to go. She still had her Moo sparkle in her eye, still ate her food and still tried to make a playful move at you (even though she would fall down). I tried to warn him that I am with her all day long, and that he only sees a snippet of it all. I would have to help her stand up, and sometimes she would fall right back down on the hard surface. She never moved from her spot for fear she would fall. She began to lose control of her bladder and bowels, and never knew it had happened because she couldn't feel anything back there. Her appetite dwindled, even with the addition of all kinds of flavors of canned foods.

Picking up her 90lbs was also hard on me, but I did the best I could. Giving her a bath was especially hard, but was needed frequently because of her accidents. One day, she had an accident in the kitchen, so I was able to put her outside while I cleaned it up before bringing her back in for a bath. When I went to call her in, I did not realize that she had fallen, twisted like a pretzel stuck in the pouring rain. I shrieked and somehow was able to carry her inside. She looked up at me in the tub and I knew that she was ready. I just needed to have Blake on the same page.

I expressed my heartbreaking decision to him and he agreed. I felt sick to my stomach, scheduling her appointment a week from that day. I knew I wanted to take her to the park one last time, so we took her on a sunny day. She struggled to make the short walk to the awakening rose garden. But, she posed beautifully, as she always did. The sun warmed her and she looked happy to be out once more. But by the end of our visit, she was very visibly tired and ready to go back home.

On her last day, I laid on the floor with her until it was time to go. She adored it and wrapped her head around to keep it on my lap. I just didn't want to forgot the feeling of petting her or her soft short fur fluffing through my fingers. Hubs met us at the clinic with a hamburger and a ice cream cone. Never allowed to have people food, she was thoroughly pleased to have these all to herself. She was not able to finish the cone, but that was ok. I was welcomed with hugs from all of my old coworkers and held my girl tight and told her that I loved her. I do believe that she also had some heart issues going on after the procedure happened. She looked at peace, but I kept stroking her arm as hubs and I hugged and bawled. I had forgotten that he had never seen a euthanasia before and I don't think he knew what to expect. But I do believe that was the most I had ever seen him cry, and that does not happen often.

My home still feels empty without her here. I just keep waiting to turn around and see her watchful eye. She always knew when I need a cuddle and she was the best and sneaking a kiss in. Meaty is still sad, too. I did have her cremated and hope to take her ashes up to a mountain meadow to spread them soon. I miss you, my Roxy-Moo.

My flower girl

The best at loving your brother

My smiling runner

My sun soaker

My goat protector

My heavy metal dog

My lounger

My face maker

My girl