San Jose, CA
It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write this blog, one I am writing way too soon. Yesterday was the worst day in my life as I put down Reilly the Hockey Dog. This year has been a challenge for the both of us, with his medical issues, my retirement and my wife’s illnesses. Through it all, the one one constant was Reilly and his beautiful demeanor and personality.
Losing your best friend is never easy, and it was very unexpected. He has been having issues with his mobility, and there were numerous trips to the vet to figure out why he was having trouble walking. There were a few instances where he could hardly walk and I was understandably concerned. The message from the vet was the same every time, he has arthritis, and by the way, he is overweight.
He wasn’t overweight, he had a spinal tumor of the worst variety, the type that grows out of the bone and is so invasive it doesn’t respond to radiation. On the morning of his last Dr appointment to get an MRI, he was weak and haunted looking. He was dragging his back legs and and was unable to eliminate his waste without great difficulty. I bathed him and blow dried him so he wouldn’t be cold for his MRI. Little did I know it would be the end of the line for him
When I took him to the vet I thought he had a disk problem, called IVDD, short for intervertebral disk disease, unfortunately fairly common in dwarf dogs. The condition is called achondroplasia, and is the word used to describe dachshunds, corgis, basset hounds and a few others.
We did the MRI and I was prepared for surgery to correct the disk problem with a long rehab and ultimately, recovery. Getting him back to normal or at least a semblance of that was what I thought was going to happen. When I got the news that it was cancer I was devastated. When the options were explained to me, the most that could be gained was 1-6 months of life. Surgery, rehab, chemo and pain and suffering to gain a few months with my beloved Corgi Reilly.
While the decision was extremely difficult, I knew what the most humane and loving thing I could do was to put hime to sleep. They brought him into the room, wrapped in a blanket. He still had the tube in his mouth from the anesthesia to sedate him for the MRI. He looked so little and fuzzy, I broke down crying and stroked his fur. He was in a twilight stage of sedation, where his eyes were half open. I felt a deep a connection with him and and an even deeper sense of dread and loss.
His fur was soft and clean as I stroked him and sobbed, like I am now. I kissed him goodbye as they gave him a shot to send him to heaven. The assistant came in and helped me choose an urn to receive his ashes. My friend Peter was with me all the way through and comforted me as I lost my shit.
As I’m writing, early in the morning, I keep looking over where he always lays and he isn’t there. He will always be in my heart, and my deep love for him comforts me in my grief. I have to mention my remaining Corgi, Angus who is with me now, He keeps looking for Reilly too and seems very sad also. He is also a little angel and I hope we’ll have many more good times together.
Forever Immortal. Goodnight Sweet Baby Boy, I love you.