My brave little Quigley.
You were too young to go away. It's hard to believe that you are gone. Maybe it's all been a bad dream, and When I throw back the shower curtain you'll come running down the hall, so that you can help me dry my feet. Wouldn't that be a wonderful maybe. Every once in a while I still think I hear your tags jingling. You were my shining star in a dark and lonely night. But your short life was filled with so much pain and suffering. Please know that Dr. Weldon and I tried everything possible to make you better, and for a few short days after your last surgery I felt sure that you would come home to me and grow into a healthy, happy dog. But life is cruel, and it wasn't meant to be. After speaking to the doctors, I took you from your hospital cage for one last walk around the grounds...... you were so thirsty, trying to get every last drop from the faucet outside. When we returned inside, even though I knew you would become ill, I gave you the largest bowl of water I could find, because I didn't want you to go away thirsty, you were sooo thirsty. I felt so helpless, and Knowing what I had to do made it no easier. Your little stomach just couldn't function. You were a fighter and never would have given up, or left me behind, so I made the decision for us both. It was difficult to feel you slip away in my arms, but I didn't want you to be alone when you went. It was the last thing that I could do for my little buddy. All the tears that I have cried, and the pain that I now experience every second of every day, is made a little better knowing that you are not sick or hurting anymore. I am so sorry that I couldn't fix you. I miss you so very much. Please know that I will always love you, and there will never be another like you.
QUIGLEY April 17, 2008 - January 12, 2009 9:17am
|
|
|
|
