Yesterday I had to make a hard decision: to have the vet euthanize my rescue foster dog. Basically, he had health problems that required extensive ongoing care and reconstructive surgery with no end in sight to the possible future complications. All for a dog that was only one year old and did not have a loving home lined up yet. And, of course, rescue groups do not exactly have huge budgets to work with either.
This little guy gave me so much heartache. How to end the life of a sweet and loving little dog that's so young? That trusts you? That's smiling up at you in the car on the way to the vet? Yes, the other dogs we can help makes up for this kind of thing somewhat, but you never forget the ones like this that through no fault of their own got the short end of the stick in life: bad genetics and bad owners.
One thing that makes me glad is that at least he found his way to us and enjoyed a couple of fun weeks at our house, playing, stealing my toddler's Cheerios, and chewing up her books. Oh, and gleefully chasing the cat. The other thing that makes me glad is that I was there when he was put down. I held his head and I knew he never saw it coming. Yes, I cried all the way home in the car.
