June 1994 - August 24, 2011
On Tuesday I went and picked up Weezie. She had not eaten well during the week and slept most of the time, which was usual. She was also drinking a lot of water. She seemed tired and liked that I was there, but her usual excitement was gone. Maybe being away from her made it clearer, or maybe she suddenly shot further down hill, but it became clear to me that she would not be long for this world. After getting her home she was wasted. Pooped out. Done. She wobbled around the yard, often losing her footing. I thought for sure she would pass in the night and I prayed that she would peacefully slip away. I bundled her and had her sleep with me so she knew I was near (I probably did it more for myself.) She woke up around 1am -- she had to pee and she wasn't thrilled that I had bundled her up and she couldn't move. I took her out and she roamed around doing her business. She wasn't falling but she was wobbly and walking in circles.
I brought her back in and she wouldn't stay laying down, she was restless. I put her in her crate so that she remained safe.
In the morning, she lay there peacefully, but not looking sickly, rest had done her some good. When she awoke, she just looked at me, her face seemed bright and she was so stinking cute. She didn't take any water or food the day before so I offered her some hamburg, which she ate a bit of gingerly. She obviously needed assistance in getting up so I helped her and took her outside. She wobbled around but she was pretty quick and determined.
I had made the decision Tuesday evening that I would bring her to the vet for her last visit the following day. Of course, her actions said day made me question the choice, although I knew in my heart it was the right one. It was obvious that her body was done. The vet explained that it's often the adrenaline which makes it seem they are not ready to go. She had been unable to walk up the back steps to the house and I watched her pacing the length of the step and could feel the determination in her. I let her be and then went into the house. A couple minutes later there she was trying to climb up the third step which would bring her into the house. The son of a gun. Stoic to the end. I helped her inside.
At 10:15 we started our journey an hour away to her vet. She was folded into a towel for comfort and rode in the front seat so that I could touch her.
I started to carry her into the vet's building but made the decision for her to do it herself if she could. And she did. She was a tough girl.
As she was held on the table, being told how beautiful and what a good girl she was, she did not fight, she was ready and she quietly slipped away.
Weezie was tenacious, feisty, determined, bitchy, cranky, whiney, beautiful, silly, sweet and gave the most delicate kisses. She fought to the end with a strong spirit but her body could no longer do what her mind wanted it to do. It was tired. It lived a long life of 17 years and was done.
I will miss her.