What a Day

Wow...nothing like getting kicked in the gut while you're already down! Our, once, great big bear of a dog wasted away to nearly nothing and was put to sleep tonight.

It all started with the explosion of "mess" he made in my laundry room...remember that one?....well, that was basically the beginning of the end. His diarrhea never stopped and actually got worse. After that incident and other episodes of diarrhea in the garage Chet kept telling me, through my fits, that he had to be sick b/c he just didn't do that. Well, we didn't realize just how sick. Then it was the vomiting and then not eating all together. He probably had not eaten one thing in the last two weeks. He would still move around and wag his tail and be there to greet you but this last week he took a turn for the worse. He got to the point where he would not even bark at visitors (and those of you who know him know that is a rarity) or move. Chet took him to the vet a couple of days ago and he gave us some meds to try. Poor dog would not swallow them and when he would he would throw them back up. He literally was nothing but skin bones.

These last couple of days he did nothing but lay out in the snow. Even with the garage door open, he would choose a snow patch on the lawn or deck and just lay there. The other morning Chet found him out frozen covered in snow. The poor dog didn't even go into the garage for the night. Even though he was shivering he just could not, or didn't want to, come into the garage. So, Chet made an appt to take him back into the vet today. When I brought him into the garage today I took one look at him and thought "my dog is dying". I hoped beyond hope that it was something that was able to be fixed but my gut told me that he would not be around too long.

The vet did some blood work and confirmed what we were dreading most. He had some type of lymphoma or cancer. Chet had to make the decision then to put him down, or try other options that would just delay the inevitable and in the meantime have a dog that was still suffering. He said he couldn't even get the poor dog to lift his head off the floor to talk to him. Gosh this is the worst part of having a pet. Knowing that this day will come but when it's a decision you have to make it's even worse. He was only 7 years old (human years) and Retrievers usually make it to 13. I thought we had another good 6 years with him at least. Chet walked into the house with red, swollen eyes and I knew then what he had to do. Not fun! I only wish I would've said goodbye to him before.

I can only imagine that he was SO happy to be let go. Chet even asked him if that's what he wanted and he kind of gave a heavy breath and just laid down completely onto the floor. I know many of you have heard me vent and gripe at how annoyed I was with him for digging, or chewing or running off but I never would want it to come to this. He was a great doorbell and made me feel so safe when Chet was out of town. I did love my dog. We have all been sobbing and mourning the loss of our buddy. Cute little Makayla went into her room tonight and cried herself to sleep.

We went out to dinner to tonight and it was so strange to come home and not have a big dog in the way wagging his tail, beating you to the door ready to knock you down. We will all miss our big, golden, happy dog. We loved the 7 years we did have with you Gunner. Have fun running and playing without hearing the "beep, beep" of a shock collar!

We love you and will miss you so much.

All our Love,
Your Family