My beautiful golden (retriever) girl of nearly 13 years had to be put down this week. This is my second pet in just two months who has become too sick to go on. I had never been in charge of euthanasia until now. Nearly 45 years old, and never the one to make this choice. My ex-husband got our two cats in the divorce, and he was the one who made the decisions for those two gorgeous coon cat boys. I cried for them, and for the kitty we lost in February, but nothing feels like this feeling with Isabelle. She was the most loving soul (a term used by our vet's office in the sympathy card they mailed). My daughter and I stayed with her until the end...the very end. We hugged and kissed her as her final breath was taken. It was peaceful and it was the right thing to do, but it feels, even three days later, like there's a hole in my heart. She had been with me, with us, since she was all of 7 1/2 weeks old.
See her here with my daughter (a photo taken shortly after we got her). 
She was my companion in those early years of being divorced and my daughter would be with her Dad for the weekend. She was the constant in my mostly single existence of the last 13 years. These final months had become hard, and very expensive. She had all manner of ailments, and had to be poked and prodded a lot. She stood it well, but in the last few weeks looked like she was scared of me -- scared of what I had to do next...to her ears or her eyes. Her eyesight was gone, her hearing was gone...the real Isabelle was gone. I'll miss her more than I know how to say. Rest in peace, Lady Isabelle of Durham -- my goldie girl...I love you.
