Due to the severity and the speed of his progression, I finally forced myself to call the vet this Friday afternoon and have them do a home visit tomorrow morning, a Saturday. Hunter has stopped eating and drinking entirely. His breathing is growing more labored. He doesn't walk well, and his back cracks each time I pick him up and carry him.
As hard as it was to call, and as hard as it is to watch my beloved old dog succumb to his old age, euthanasia is the right thing to do, given his age and condition. I have trimmed his fur and saved a few clumps of it. I also have numerous pictures I've taken of him over the years that will help me remember him. Of course, I will also keep his collar; the same collar and tag he's had since we first got him. The same collar that used to fit snuggly around his neck, to hanging off his neck by several inches due to his weight loss.
I will also have him cremated and his ashes returned to me. After all, he's never been an outdoorsy dog. He's always been a cuddly couch potato. So, I think the best way to honor Hunter is to keep his remains with me in my bedroom. Probably in an urn right on my nightstand.
As heartbroken as I am, I am still so thankful that Hunter's euthanasia can happen at home, with me right there with him. The vet will give him a pill to sedate him first, before injecting him with the medication that will stop his heart. He will be fast asleep before he dies, so he won't get scared of the needle. Better yet, he will be at home, surrounded by his family, Penny included.
What happens then? I don't know. I want to believe that like humans, animals also have souls that will go to be with the Lord. I want to believe that this isn't The End of my journey with Hunter. I want to believe that when Hunter dies, he will not just be in the presence of the Lord, but he will also become the companion of my paternal grandparents, and my great-grandparents, perhaps even my great-great grandparents. And, when I die, Hunter will be with me once again.
At least, that's what I want to happen. That's what I pray will happen. That's what my faith has led me to believe will happen.
Because... well... I now believe that there is life after death. And, I don't believe the ability to live on beyond our bodies is something only humans get to enjoy. I believe if there is life after death, it is something that all sentient creatures are granted. Hunter included. Penny included. All animals included.
I realize that brings a new, interesting question to explore: what about the animals I've hunted and eaten? Do they also have souls? Will they also meet me in heaven? Well... I think so. What that means, however, I don't have a clue. Right now, my heart's way too damn sore to really think about that. Not because I'm afraid of what might happen when I am confronted by the pronghorn I've taken the lives of (I'm not afraid). But, because... right now, as I type this, I am less than several hours away from giving my beloved dog the good, peaceful, painless death he deserves. Just like I gave those pronghorn, and I hope to give every other animal I ever hunt, fish, and adopt into my family.
Sure, the methods may be different. Hunter will be sent off to the Lord with a relaxation pill and a silent injection that he won't feel. The pronghorn I've hunted were both taken by a .243 round traveling twice as fast as the speed of sound, and their souls left this realm before their bodies hit the ground. But, the sentiment is very much the same. Every living creature deserves to live and die with dignity, faith, and love.
In my living room where Hunter will be put down, our faith is displayed everywhere. Mom and I are both Christians, but she and I approach Christianity pretty differently. Mom's faith is a lot more overt and... Orthodox... than mine. Which, is perfectly okay. Her faith is just as powerful and valid as mine.
In the living room, there are several crosses displayed on the walls and on the built-in bookshelves by and above the mantle. Above the mantle is a canvas with the words, "It is well with my soul..." calligraphied on it in big, bold letters. There are well over a dozen well-worn bibles on that bookshelf, alongside theology books, books about individuals' faiths, self-help-style books about trusting and believing in God, etc. There are also a handful of statues of saints on those shelves, one of them being of Saint Francis of Allisi, who was famous for loving animals and talking/preaching the Gospels to them.
Mom also has a few bottles of holy water, as well as large collection of Catholic prayer candles, most of which she got from her trips to Mexico. Perhaps, in Hunter's honor, we'll light one. Of course, Mom has a lot of Jesus stuff, too: art, statues, Bible verses written in red, crosses. And, we can't forget about the growing number of biblically-inaccurate angels she's collected on those shelves, too.
In short, Hunter will be dying in the most sacred room in our house, with Mom, Jack, Penny, and myself with him as he transitions from this realm to the next.
Oh, how blessed are we to provide Hunter such a peaceful, loving passing.
