Member-only story
Watching an Old Friend Die
It’s not easy.
I lost my best friend 14 years ago next month. She had survived breast cancer, but it came back a few years later as bone cancer. She outlived her life expectancy by 5 years, but it was a hard fight. The last time I called her, she said she was tired and said she’d call me back. I called and left a message on her phone about a month later. It turns out she died later the day I called.
Now I am watching another old friend die, only this time he’s right here in my house, where I can watch every downward slide. He’s 13, and I have had him since he was 6 weeks old. He was fine until about 3 months ago, when we noticed he was slowing down. That was to be expected, but he’s gone downhill much faster than we thought he would.
So far, he doesn’t seem to be suffering; at the first sign of that, I will rush him to the vet. He just seems to be fading away. He sleeps a lot, eats very little, and has lost interest in going outside. He smells like he has a messy bottom, but I don’t want to give him a bath in this cold weather, and the idea of putting him through wrapping him up in a towel and going at his back end with scissors seems cruel. He’s down to skin and bones. He still likes to be petted, but his hind quarters are getting wobbly.
I want him to go the same way I want to go: go to sleep and just not wake up. I’m close enough to my own end to want him to go peacefully at home, the same way I want to go. I will cry as we bury him, but I will take comfort from his good, long, loved life.
It’s the watching and waiting that’s hard.
The waiting is over. Rest in soft peace, Bailey.
