my hands are shaking, and i have a giant lump in my throat and i am trying not to cry (just in case a cleaner comes in.) i am still at work so this sucks. at least i am done seeing my clients and the office is empty. oh 9 pm, please come soon, i just want to go home.
i have decided tomorrow to end clyde's life. he had another rage episode today. it is not his fault, it is just another part of his misfiring, seizuring brain but i just cannot safely manage his sometimes violent illness anymore.
i love this dog, he sleeps in my arms most nights, he lays on me as we watch tv, he trusts me as much as he can trust anyone, which is not entirely, but almost. i wonder if i am the very first person that really loved him, and if i might be the first person he loved back again?....he is such a little frankenstein... but i hope he loved someone else before he got sick and his brain went ballistic... and i really hope that they loved him back too. maybe then i won't feel so bad, if for a time, he had a normal life with a real family who adored him and he felt it too.
there is a bond here that i am breaking, consciously, to keep the others safe. i am sick inside not only at the thought of losing him but ultimately, because i don't want to betray him this way.
i had hoped if this was how it was going to end, with his disease winning the war, that he would be seizuring and we would lose while still fighting, not with my surrendering because i am afraid.
i don't want to do this. and i am going to be sick. but i am going to do it because i just can't see any other way. there is no way to pretend that there is anything noble or good in this. it is just something horrible that has to be done because i am afraid of what will happen next time.... his life for their safety.
i am so sorry clyde.
Carol, this must be so heartbreaking for you. Your strength amazes me. Following Clyde's story since he arrived at Saints has been so fascinating for me as I have never known a rescuer like you who takes on this unpredictable, strange, sometimes dangerous, but wonderful creature, knowing he may be a ticking timebomb.
The gift you have given him of your patience, love and understanding is incalculable...not only to Clyde but to those of us who follow the story and begin to understand that the lifelines we throw out in animal rescue will not always float back to us with a serene, grateful and gentle recipient at the other end. Sometimes those we reel in from the depths will come thrashing, flailing, biting and kicking. And those are the ones who truly need our help. As well-meaning as so many of us are we might look down at the sopping mess heaving beneath us and quickly decide to cut the line for myriad reasons.
But you didn't...you gave Clyde what he needed...a chance to be right...a chance to know somebody who finally "got" him and accepted him just the way he was, realizing all the time that you might have to take another bullet hole to the heart if the time came.
Sorry this is so long but I feel so strongly that everything you do for these animals is truly remarkable and your stories of Clyde have been incredibly eye-opening for me. When it gets really hard, you don't run away. And, with this awful decision you have to make, you continue to stand beside Clyde and all your other animals every step of the way. Clyde was betrayed by his past and perhaps by his genes but never by you, Carol...never by you.