A gash in his side went through to his lungs and air was entering with each breath. Also on the wounded side, he had a lot of air under his skin causing more pain. Surgery was not an option because the likelihood of death was 80%. I could have had his chest bound and hope for the best, but the gash on his neck could not be closed.
He was in so much pain, crying and looking to me, that as I said goodbye while waiting for the vet, I knew I made the right choice. I would never see him suffer just so I could selfishly avoid goodbye.
It was a horrible incident involving leashed dogs. The other owners are as irreconcilable as I. I was encouraged to call animal control and have the dogs destroyed. Thankfully, that's not my decision. The only thing Animal Control could do was to confirm that the dogs were registered and vaccinated. Though I was (somewhat) relieved that the other dogs wouldn't be put down, I had to grapple with the hurt that according to the City, my dog's death was of no consequence.
For now, I only want to think of my special little guy who followed me everywhere and couldn't hurt a fly.
Reese, the best boy ever:
I used to misquote Robert Louis Stevenson's poem, My Shadow, to Reese nearly every day by singing:
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And every where I go, my Boo-Boo's sure to be!
My version is incredibly accurate. (For the real poem, follow this link: My Shadow)
I also used to sing:
I am a little Reeses, short and stout.
When you tip me over, poo comes out!
It's good to remember. I'm doing it a little at a time and wearing his dog collar as a bracelet so I can continue to hear him follow me everywhere.