How to say good bye to Batman

Philosophically, I have no problem with animals, or people, coming to the ends of their lives. For a pet, I definitely consider the money involved. I think it is insane to spend large amounts of money on medical issues. I think that a pet should be a low maintenance item in terms of money and a high maintenance item in terms of attention. However, it is not just because of an outlay of money, although I have many examples of how the initial outlay can turn into much much more. In my life, the possibilities of medical intervention for pets have gone from minimal to just as complicated as for people. Beyond the issue of money is the issue of pain and procedures and quality of life which can be informed choices for people but not for pets. I choose that my pets should not be subjected to pain. Of course, we have had all the pets neutered which is a surgery but that is followed by the expectation and reality of an intervention free life until the end is reached.

For Batman, I still believed all of that to be correct. To have tried to save him would have cost a ton of money. How can people spend a ton of money on one animal when there are millions of others that need to be taken care of? A pet is always a short term proposition compared to the expected life span of a human being, so money spent is going to be for a relatively short term solution, even if the solution is successful. In this case, a good outcome could not be assured but it was known that there would be a long period of pain and recuperation. I could not possibly choose that for Batty.

But to make that choice was a cause of pain for me and that is stupid because I had to make that choice five times before for my dogs and cats. When we got Batty, I knew I would have to make that choice one day.

A relatively minor issue is my feeling that I need to justify my decision to others. I feel as if it's a given these days that people will form this close association with the vet, as they do with the pediatrician when there is a child. Therefore, I feel as if I am on the fringe to have a strong opinion about doing otherwise. Since I truly feel that I am correct and I am realistic and that this companion pet veterinarian business is crazy over the top, I don't know why I feel defensive. It isn't as if my friends are judging me even if they make different decisions.

Last summer we were selling the house where we had lived for 24 years and going through the stress and aggravations associated with that. There was some stress about moving the dogs and cats to the condominium. Batman had shown that he was afraid of the condominium for some reason that we couldn't imagine. I intended to eventually take both dogs to Portland and I was worried about the trip as Batty was anxious in the car.

But both dogs appeared to be healthy and there was no way to anticipate what would soon happen to both of them.

Why I can't say good bye:

1) It was so sudden. On our walk one Saturday morning at the end of July he was apparently absolutely his strong vital happy self and a week later, he was dead.

2) He asked me to help him. He expected me to help him. The only help I could give him was to free him from pain, to end his life. It is hard for me to know that was the answer even though I know it is a perfectly good answer.

3) I saw him go. I saw his eyes alive and then dead. I think if you haven't seen it, it's hard to imagine the shock, the finality, and the lonliness.

4) I am so lonely. We spent so much time together, the three of us. I didn't take them around in the car with me. We walked and we ran for miles and miles every day. There's no place around here that we haven't been.

5) My daily life is much changed. In the ten years that they were mine we lived in the same house and the girls were both gone from the house. Now the house is sold and I am, though by conscious choice, displaced from that life and that routine, and now from those canine companions that I had expected would make the transition with me.

I guess there is a ritual beyond crying until I feel sick. Three dogs and two cats and even two stranger cats that were killed on the road are all buried in that back yard. They are inside the fence but in a woods portion where I hope that the new owners won't be moved to dig. Batman is in a little bit different spot and there is a large flat rock on his grave. The others are covered with a hodge podge rock pile. I wonder if I should tell those new people what's there or if it would freak them out. Each one is wrapped up in something soft because it is heart breaking enough to put dirt on them. I dug the graves and I covered them up. Batty is wrapped in my good old tiger blanket that my mother gave me forty years ago.

I'm just so lonely. I don't want to say good bye. And now I miss China and can't lay her to rest. I have this life filled up with seeing Eloise and Esme grow. It is also filled with Sarah's and Susan's animals. There's Henry the greyhound that I walk every day. There is Silente the cat who wakes me up multiple times in the night wanting to be petted. There are many cats at Sarah's house. But first thing in the morning and last thing at night I miss my dogs.

I know that time will ease that loneliness and eventually erase it altogether. I am a little bit sad that the pain goes away but that is the right thing. I know that even the pain of China's being missing will be gone one day. I think that time is the only cure, time and moving on with life.