Ringo's ashes have been brought back. How can 35kg of dog fit into such a small box? The Pet Cemetary also gave me a keep-sake (clippings of his black and white fur) which I didn't expect. When I looked at it I let out the most horrendous, howling sob and my eyes haven't stopped leaking since.
The last 2 weeks have been a roller-coaster. Ringo stopped eating and drinking 2 weeks ago so I was tempting him with ham and getting water into him via a syringe. He gave me "the look" that posters had warned me about. I cried when I saw it - but I was ready for it because of the warnings on this thread. (Thank you pps) Ringo was double-incontinent for 2 days and never left his bed.
I had pts booked at our brick house for the Monday but the vet said I was to let him eat whatever he wanted in the meantime. On Sunday night I put a duvet down on the floor, cooked some pasta bolognese to make me eat and settled down for our last night together. I was more than surprised when a little tongue appeared over the side of the dish ..... Ringo wanted my bolognese! So I gave it to him and he scoffed the lot. (There was no competition when it came to choosing either me or him eating 
) At 6am he wanted to go walking in the little park opposite and we did about 1 mile. He did a massive 'rally round'. I cancelled the pts appointment and asked the vet to come to our holiday home on 2nd March instead.
I spent the following week cooking all his favourite food - liver, chicken fillets, mince in gravy. I was trying to kid myself that he would improve sufficiently well if I kept him eating, drinking and walking. He still loved his daily brushing but on Thursday that week, I found a lump in his hind quarters. I knew then ...... the vet had been right all along in suspecting cancer of the spleen. His back legs were so wobbly that some days I struggled to get him to stand first thing in the morning. Walks became more limited and he was even reluctant to go into the back garden as he had to spring up a step to get back into the kitchen. By this time he was faecally incontinent again.
So on 1st March we arrived back at the holiday home and Ringo tried to jump up the 2 steps to the decking and he fell backwards and collapsed. I got him up the steps with encouragement and a heave-ho! He wouldn't go down the steps again. He would walk around the decking but when I opened the gate I got the look that said, "You are having a laugh aren't you? If I go down those steps again I will never get back up to my big bed!"
The vet arrived at 4.45pm on 2nd March. I had to bring him in through the electronic gates so Ringo was looking through the glass door waiting for me to return (only 5 minutes) when we arrived back. He did a really big bark at the vet and then waddled to his big bed. The vet said, "I can see a lump as he walks". I said, "I know. It's that cancer of the spleen isn't it?". But the vet had seen a different lump, and I had to point out the lump I had found. He stopped examining Ringo when he had felt 3 lumps. I said, I know it is time for pts - but the vet was concerned that he hadn't brought a nurse. I said I could hold Ringo but the vet hadn't signed the drugs out as he thought I just wanted him to 'check' and make the decision for the next day. But we both knew that Ringo's time had come and pts the next day would have meant a night of misery.
So we discussed what would happen to Ringo after pts. The vet went back to his surgery (with my electronic barrier card so he could come straight back in and I wouldn't have to leave Ringo) and got the pts drugs - returned with a nurse and brought the pet cemetery person with him who stayed outside.
It was all over within 20 minutes. Gentle sedative for Ringo, me signing the forms, then I had to say when I was ready for the pts. I was told what to expect (body gurglings and breaths) because I wanted him to die in my arms. There was absolutely NO trauma. I kissed him and hugged him and told him I loved him but it was time to go. I knew when his heart had stopped beating and I was satisfied I had given him the best way to slip out of this world. The vet checked and confirmed Ringo had gone. The vet then positioned Ringo in a suitable pose to carry him out (his legs were splaying in front when he passed over the rainbow bridge because that is how he slept). The crem person knocked on the door after 10 minutes when I was ready to let Ringo be removed. The vet and the crem person carried him out and I walked behind because I chose to see Ringo into the car. I asked for something of my late-husband to be cremated with Ringo because I want to believe that they are both together now. Ringo gave me my independence when my DH died. It is only right that my DH and Ringo spend some time together over the rainbow bridge watching over me until I join them.
It was all so dignified but, more importantly, it was right for Ringo. He felt no fear, he didn't have the trauma of a car journey to the vet and the anxiety of being left. He simply slipped away in his own home on his own bed with me holding him.
RIP Ringo x