Goodbye Mickey

I forgot to mention in the whirlwind that was my last few weeks that Mickey, Husband and his parent's dog, was put to sleep. We don't know exactly how old he was because he was a rescue, but Husband thinks he was at least fourteen. He had a gray muzzle and his paws were pretty gray as well. He was definitely an old man of a dog. In the years that I knew Mickey, he was a happy dog that loved life. Husband's parents held off on putting him to sleep for months. First his pancreas started to go, and then he started having horrible indigestion. Husband's parents altered his diet to be friendlier on his system, and watched his health closely. Then his legs started to go. The last time I saw him, his back legs were so frail, he couldn't even sit down. He just kind of squatted when you pet him. His parents tried to make him comfortable, including buying him a ramp for getting in and out of their car. Finally, poor Mickey completely lost control of his bowels and had a few other problems. Surprisingly, Husband's parents didn't let go of him for another few weeks. Throughout this ordeal, Mickey was his normal happy self. Sure, he couldn't sit down while you pet him, but he would still wag his tail, stick his tongue out, and enjoy himself. He had discomfort, but he wasn't in pain, which is why Husband's parents waited so long to put him to sleep. They felt that as long as they could keep him comfortable, he deserved to be around as long as possible. Unfortunately, the time came when he was no longer experiencing just "a little discomfort" and it was time to end it.

Husband's parents are visiting for the holidays, and it still hasn't sunk in that Mickey won't be with them. Goodbye Mickey. You were the best companion anyone could want, and you are already missed.