This morning, at 10:18am, I said my last goodbye to my sweet Paco.
Dr. Berkshire came over around 9am and we sat and chatted for a while about Paco’s condition. Paco’s heart murmur had progressed from a grade 4 to 6 in a month, confirming that he was in the end stages of CHF. Dr. Berkshire said we could try upping his dose of Furosemide, but this might cause kidney failure. He also checked Paco’s throat, to see if there was any indication that his trachea was collapsing, but there was little evidence of this. We spoke a little more, but ultimately, it was decided that humane euthanasia wouldn’t be a bad option at this stage.
I knew I was going to put Paco to sleep the second that I hit send on the inital email to the vet, requesting a consultation. Most of me wanted to be told that there was a good chance we could keep Mr. P alive a while longer, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it was time to say goodbye. Not like I wanted to do it, but more just that I knew it was the best choice.
I signed some papers, paid the bill, and we went over what was going to happen, along with what might happen.
I laid Paco down in his bed, on my bed. He was swaddled in his Paco Wan Kenobi blanket, and he was comfy. First was a shot of sedative, which I had been told could cause problems, due to the nature of Paco’s disease. I was also told it would pinch. In went the needle, and Paco screamed. I can still remember his face; he looked like it hurt. As this was known to happen, the plan was to have treats nearby, so that Paco would feel the pinch, but immediately be happy because of the treats. The shot was a sedative and a pain killer, so Paco didn’t feel much after that inital pinch. I gave him some of his ‘num nums’ and he was happy.
That was the last interaction I had with little Paco, and it was a happy one.
As the sedative kicked in, Paco started having a hard time breathing, and it was clear that something was wrong. Dr. Berkshire remained calm, and hurried up the process of giving him the shot that would end his life. As previously mentioned, I was told something like this might happen, so it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mean that the process had to be sped up. It wasn’t as peaceful as I had hoped, but Paco wasn’t in pain.
The vet checked Paco’s back right leg for any response, and then checked it again about 10 seconds later. There was no response the second time, so it was time to give him the final shot.
It seemed to take 5 seconds until Paco was lying there, dead on my bed, but it must have been a bit longer. I was left alone with Paco to take some time to say goodbye. I rolled him a little more onto his belly, so that his eyes would close a bit more. I took a few last photos of my sweet boy and said my goodbyes. I let the dogs sniff him, though I don’t think they knew that he was dead. Maybe they did. I’ll never know.
The vet came back in, and gently wrapped Paco’s lifeless body into a towel, with his head still out.
I shook Dr. Berkshire’s hand, and thanked him for giving Paco a peaceful passing.
That was the last I saw of Paco, him wrapped in a towel, dead, and cradled in someone’s arms, walking down the front stairs of my house.
I fucking miss you, little dude. It’s been like 6 hours. I hate this so much. I know this was the right thing. I didn’t want you to go like your poor brother, rather I wanted to be by your side. I hope you’re not mad at me.
I love you, Paco. May you find little Chico at The Rainbow Bridge and may you spend your days rejuvenated and licky-ing his ears.
I’ll see you again one day, pal.
Dr. Berkshire came over around 9am and we sat and chatted for a while about Paco’s condition. Paco’s heart murmur had progressed from a grade 4 to 6 in a month, confirming that he was in the end stages of CHF. Dr. Berkshire said we could try upping his dose of Furosemide, but this might cause kidney failure. He also checked Paco’s throat, to see if there was any indication that his trachea was collapsing, but there was little evidence of this. We spoke a little more, but ultimately, it was decided that humane euthanasia wouldn’t be a bad option at this stage.
I knew I was going to put Paco to sleep the second that I hit send on the inital email to the vet, requesting a consultation. Most of me wanted to be told that there was a good chance we could keep Mr. P alive a while longer, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it was time to say goodbye. Not like I wanted to do it, but more just that I knew it was the best choice.
I signed some papers, paid the bill, and we went over what was going to happen, along with what might happen.
I laid Paco down in his bed, on my bed. He was swaddled in his Paco Wan Kenobi blanket, and he was comfy. First was a shot of sedative, which I had been told could cause problems, due to the nature of Paco’s disease. I was also told it would pinch. In went the needle, and Paco screamed. I can still remember his face; he looked like it hurt. As this was known to happen, the plan was to have treats nearby, so that Paco would feel the pinch, but immediately be happy because of the treats. The shot was a sedative and a pain killer, so Paco didn’t feel much after that inital pinch. I gave him some of his ‘num nums’ and he was happy.
That was the last interaction I had with little Paco, and it was a happy one.
As the sedative kicked in, Paco started having a hard time breathing, and it was clear that something was wrong. Dr. Berkshire remained calm, and hurried up the process of giving him the shot that would end his life. As previously mentioned, I was told something like this might happen, so it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mean that the process had to be sped up. It wasn’t as peaceful as I had hoped, but Paco wasn’t in pain.
The vet checked Paco’s back right leg for any response, and then checked it again about 10 seconds later. There was no response the second time, so it was time to give him the final shot.
It seemed to take 5 seconds until Paco was lying there, dead on my bed, but it must have been a bit longer. I was left alone with Paco to take some time to say goodbye. I rolled him a little more onto his belly, so that his eyes would close a bit more. I took a few last photos of my sweet boy and said my goodbyes. I let the dogs sniff him, though I don’t think they knew that he was dead. Maybe they did. I’ll never know.
The vet came back in, and gently wrapped Paco’s lifeless body into a towel, with his head still out.
I shook Dr. Berkshire’s hand, and thanked him for giving Paco a peaceful passing.
That was the last I saw of Paco, him wrapped in a towel, dead, and cradled in someone’s arms, walking down the front stairs of my house.
I fucking miss you, little dude. It’s been like 6 hours. I hate this so much. I know this was the right thing. I didn’t want you to go like your poor brother, rather I wanted to be by your side. I hope you’re not mad at me.
I love you, Paco. May you find little Chico at The Rainbow Bridge and may you spend your days rejuvenated and licky-ing his ears.
I’ll see you again one day, pal.