we put Spike to sleep. I usually dislike euphemisms, but I hate the expression put him down, and I don't want to say outright that we killed him. Besides the process was very peaceful. He did just go to sleep with an assist.
This was the toughest decision Jeff and I had to make. Knowing it was the right decision doesn't help as much as I thought and hoped it would.
It rained the day Spike died and it rained again last Tuesday when we picked up his ashes. As if the world was mourning with us.
We think of him every day: Oh, we better take him out. Is it time for his medicine? We look over to what had become his favorite spot in the kitchen. But Spike's not there. For the first time in almost 14 years, it's just Jeff and me.
I haven't had the heart to write. I haven't had the heart to do much of anything. I know it will get better. I know we'll find another dog to love. Now all we can do is mourn.