I’ve known this day has been coming for a long time, but that hasn’t made it any easier. What I remember of this morning is in a haze. Waking up, showering, driving. I recall it all, but only barely. The only thing I remember clearly is the sick feeling in my stomach, which is still with me even now.
Before I knew what happened, my Mom and I were in the office and the Vet had brought in a syringe. We sat there comforting our dog as the Vet prepared. Sly needed no calming down; he was calm as usual, always willing to do anything for his masters.
I tried to hold everything back, to be strong for Sly and for my mom. But as I felt my friend drift away, there was nothing I could do. Tears streamed down my cheek as I said my final goodbyes. Good boy Sly, good boy.
My mom and I left in a daze, the ride home was totally silent. I recall both of us were talking but I couldn’t hear. When we got home neither of us really knew what to do. We sat and retold stories. Like how my brother and I would use Sly as a pillow as we watched TV, or how he would drag us across the yard through a fresh snow. I’m secretly wishing we would stop talking and hope my friend is in a better place. Selfishly, I asked if I could have Sly’s collar. Without a second thought my Mom agreed, although I could tell she wanted to keep it. And that is where I am right now. Holding Sly’s collar – not sure if I’ve even put it down.
Over the last 13 years Sly never held a grudge, never “didn’t have time” for you, he was always in good spirits, and always willing to protect his family to the death. Even as his health was failing, he never whined or complained. He was always there, always happy, always a good boy.
Goodbye Sly, you will never be replaced and always be remembered. You were my friend, my pillow, my crutch, my guardian. You were my dog.
