I've known this day was coming for a very long time. I knew when I got Cyrus that I wouldn't have much time with him. He was kept alive in a shelter all of his first nine years under less than ideal circumstances. He came to me with medications for the pain from his blown hips and shoulders and his terrible arthritis, He's also on a pill for his thyroid problems. In the past year and a half, he has developed a skin disease that baffles my vet. We keep him on a prophylactic antibiotic to deal with the skin disease, but it isn't working anymore. At this point I don't know what is hurting the most: his legs and hips or the sores that won't heal on his face. But it became clear very early this morning that the pain is becoming too bad to bear. He has been whimpering since 3:00 AM. I can take the whimpering but I know it won't be long before the whimpering turns into screams and I can't do that to him. He has suffered enough.
His time with me has been good for us both. He has been, from the moment I got him to this moment, one of the sweetest, most loving dogs I've ever had. He has been the strong noble silent type. So I know this constant whimpering is a sign that he isn't that strong anymore.
Perhaps the timing of this crisis is a good thing, because the most difficult time of the year is rapidly approaching. Cyrus is terrified of loud noises that sound like gunfire. So the fourth of July and the twenty fourth of July are two times of huge fireworks extravaganza's of human stupidity and economic waste on an ostentatious scale. I don't approve. Cyrus is just undone by the noise. He will not have to go through that again this year. But I'll never hear fireworks that I don't think of his terror and the terror of so many other dogs when idiots are burning money with a big bang.