Just tribute to the Memory of Boomer, a Dog
Boomerang "Boomer" Ketka Baker: June 1993 - September 2007
Last weekend I had to drive home because my family had to euthanize our dog. Happy fucking Labor Day. There's actually a lot I could say about it, but I suppose there's little point. I've always felt law school was the worst three years of my life (which is probably a testament to how easy my life has been), and, sans some unforeseen disaster, always will be (which is probably a testament to how easy my life will always be). But the half-hour it took to euthanize my dog was thus far the worst moment in my life. It's a bizarre thing. At 12:29:03 he was sleeping soundly. At 12:30:15 he was gone.
What makes it such a terrible thing is that it was an unavoidable moment. My mother has been driving me a little crazy pondering all the ways we could have kept him alive longer--if we'd carried him up the stairs so his limp didn't get worse, if we'd gotten him X-rayed, etc. It sort of misses the point. This day would come no matter how many more months we'd manage to coax out of him. There was always going to be this terrible moment when we kissed our dog for the last time. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.
In a bizarre way, the best consolation is to focus on how miserable he seemed over the weekend. He could barely walk and spent the whole time lying by himself in awkward positions. We had to carry him outside every couple hours to let him go to the bathroom. I have some movie quote in my mind where a character says, "Poor [pet's name], no more pain where you are, boy." I don't know what it's from, but it's an oddly fitting sentiment.
I suppose I could keep writing about this, but there's very point. I'll just end with saying that, at the risk of ruining the image I'm sure everyone has of me as the embodiment of machoism, when the doctor came to kill my dog I cried over his body like a little girl. And yet...
"Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened." --Dr. Seuss