|12/11/98 - 28/10/13|
I've been absent since August due to being stupidly busy with my nurse training.
I had neither the time nor the inclination to blog about my sad news at the end of October. You know that feeling of holding it all together unless some bugger asks how you are and then the water works start...?
Well, enough time has passed for me to be able to write this without bursting into tears and wailing like a creature from a cheap sci-fi film.
My totally adorable, very deaf, partially blind, arthritic, IBS'ed, demented dog, Eric, had to be put to sleep in the early hours of 28th October last year.
He had been getting more demented by the week and luckily, it was the happy sort of dementia where he regressed to puppyhood rather than seemed concerned about what was going on.
That weekend, on the Saturday, The Future Mr C and I had been out shopping and when we returned we found Eric had pooped throughout our home: the hallway, kitchen and living room were carpeted with dog poop that had been trodden in as he raced around the bungalow with
Now, his arthritis was clearly not troubling him at this point as he did a fine job of mushing that poop into every available space that he could.
Well done, Eric.
Luckily... oh yes... we have a carpet cleaning machine that did an excellent job throughout the rest of the day... I was knackered by the evening, while Eric slept on after his busy day.
This was very unusual behaviour (I'm happy to report).
The next day, The Future Mr C called me and asked me if I'd been in the bedroom as he'd found 'something' on the bed. Now, what he thought I'd been up to, God only knows!
We were greeted with this sight:
Needless to say, I HAD NOT been in the bedroom.
The amazing thing is, Eric had not been able to jump onto our bed for about 2 months. How (and why) he managed this feat of artistry we have no idea. He was able to do it in the exact centre of the bed... Very clever, huh?
So, after the weekend's exploits, when it came to around 2.30am on Monday morning, after a couple of VERY bad spells he had around 1am and 2am, we knew...absolutely knew...that both his body and mind had had enough.
It was the most horribly sad phone call I have ever had to make - to call the vet out knowing that I was about to say goodbye to my loveable, bonkers pup. We made him comfortable on his bed and he fell asleep before she arrived which made things much calmer for him.
The vet and the nurse were lovely and it was all very quick and pain free.
I'll finish this post with one of my favourite pictures: The Future Mr C and Eric having a lazy Sunday afternoon on the sofa 2 months before Eric died.
A very happy memory :)