Here’s a very
short story I wrote on 31 May 2012. I came
across this when I was trying to check on some old flash drives earlier today.
I should have
written this piece last Friday (29 May 2012) evening, but at that time I wasn’t
ready to write about how Buddy (our pet Labrador) and I parted. He passed away at about 2:00 pm and I had to
bury him about 4:00 pm last Friday.
King, my son and Buddy’s rightful master, wasn’t around – he’s in Europe
for his honeymoon and will be back on June 9th yet. Buddy’s been sick the past few months but
this has been on and off. We’ve always
attributed it to his age. For a
Labrador, 14 dog years is quite long life since most large breeds like
Labradors last usually from 12-15 years.
He’s been suffering from arthritis and has had difficulty walking and
moving around but always made sure he would be greeting us every morning (upon
waking up and tending the small garden at the backyard) and afternoon (when we
come home from work) with a wagging tail and happy facial expression. He was always cheerful and playful.
King’s prognosis
might be right. It probably didn’t help
Buddy psychologically that suddenly there were no people at home and he might
have felt alone and lonely. Jegs and I
started moving out of the house on May 5th, and King and Vanie left
for Europe on May 24th.
During that time, his health deteriorated quickly. On Friday, May 25th, a day after
King and Vanie left, Buddy visibly became a little lonely but was always alert,
always wagging his tail when he saw Jegs and me. Everyday, Jegs was in the house fixing the
things we needed to fix before King and Vanie would be back. Jegs observed that on May 27th,
Buddy suddenly had no interest in food.
In fact, for two days (28th and 29th) he didn’t
eat, but took some water when Jegs kind of “force-fed” him with water. Jegs and Buddy had become very close friends,
not as pet and master.
On May 28th,
Jegs, on my suggestion, contacted her high school classmate who is now a veterinarian (faculty member of the UPLB
College of Veterinary Medicine). Dr.
Andrew Bernardo visited Buddy on the 29th. The moment he saw Buddy, Dr. Bernardo’s face
became sad. He told us that Buddy was
very sick, and he diagnosed him to also have some parasites from which he might
not be able to recover because apparently the parasitic condition has so
quickly advanced and in consideration of his age he was just waiting to
go. I asked Dr. Bernardo if it was still
possible to treat Buddy and he said that his prognosis was that Buddy would be
lucky if he lasted two more weeks.
I didn’t like to
see Buddy suffer the way he did. I
talked to him (Buddy) and he looked at me like he never did before, as if
pleading for help. He looked so
helpless. I’ll never forget the way he looked
at me straight in the eyes. It was then
that I asked Dr. Bernardo who was beside me, “Doc, is there a way to end his
suffering quickly?” Then I mentioned the
term “euthanasia” to which the Vet said, “at this point that’s the most humane
thing to do.” But I immediately said, “I
can’t make that decision just yet. I
need to consult my son.” He said, he’d be
prepared to do it any day. During the
day, I emailed King and told him about the situation. I got his response the following day 30 May
2012. He said, given all considerations,
he agreed that euthanasia was the best option Buddy could be given. So on May 30th I asked Jegs to
contact his veterinarian-friend again and tell him that we’d be ready on May 31st. I didn’t like the idea of putting Buddy to
permanent sleep on the 30th, which was my birthday. We agreed on the 31st. Dr. Bernardo said he would be there at 1:30
pm, and he was.
While the Vet
was preparing the injections, I was talking to Buddy. I told him, “Buddy, I’m very sorry but you’ll
have to go into a long sleep. May be
we’ll not see each other again. Al and
Vanie are not here right now but Al knows everything that’s going on. I’m sorry that you’ll not see them before you
sleep. But this is the best to relieve
you of whatever suffering you’re having.
Bye, Buddy.” Then I stroked his
head. He responded with a weakly-wagging
tail and a lonely look in the face. I
knew, however, that he understood he was going to sleep permanently.
First, the Vet
injected Buddy with a sedative to put him to temporary sleep. When Buddy was asleep, Dr. Bernardo tried to
locate Buddy’s veins for the next injection but couldn’t find any because
Buddy’s legs had swollen. He hasn’t
changed position in the last 48 hours.
The Vet couldn’t find Buddy’s veins on the hind legs and the front
legs. Ultimately, the Vet asked me, “I
need your permission to go straight to the heart” and I said “go ahead.” In a couple of seconds, Buddy had his last
two gasps of air. Slowly his head turned upwards and then he was gone. Slowly, the Vet pushed his head
downwards. His tongue was very pale, but
he looked serene.
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