MAE.

The Ethington family has seen 2 golden retrievers in their lifetime. 

Puppy #1: Sam was this out of control, super hyper golden that we had to give away to a family on a farm (3rd grade). I remember he loved eating ice. He was a total lunatic.

Puppy #2: Simon. Simon was named after our family friend-priest (also priest that did our wedding). Don’t ask why we named our family dog after our giant, African priest-friend. This dog was also a maniac. He preferred carrots over dog food, and had to be put outside every time a guest would arrive otherwise he would urinate all over the floor from excitement (I totally get that, who doesn’t?). He was a Christmas present, my siblings best friend and a loyal family member (he was originally purchased as a housing security method —although due to his unfortunate bladder issues, never came through for us).

Yesterday I found out poor Simon had to be put to sleep. 

I always heard of friends losing there beloved pets and the emotional repurcussions, but never fully understood. Hell — I joke about giving away the cats all of the time! They are just pets. You buy them knowing they’ll only be around for 10 years (Simon just celebrated his 9th birthday). Let me tell you…I have been a blubbering mess! I can’t hear his name, talk to my family, look at Sundeep .. without wanting to sob over this pooch. 

Simon collapsed on Friday. My mom thought maybe his legs just gave out, he’s getting old, she didn’t react too strongly. Saturday she woke up, his mouth was looking ashy, he wasn’t interested in going outside, waking up the girls or eager to go on a walk (usually when anyone is caught saying the word “walk,” Simon starts crying, running to the door — barking, etc). So they were concerned, but had huge plans of hitting up the Apple Orchard for doughnuts and ciders, and thought maybe he was coming down with something. When they arrived home things were no different, so my parents decided to take him to the vet. Simon absolutely hates the vet. Cries in the car, knows he’s going there, won’t get out of the car when they get there — just hates it.  

This is what breaks my heart. Poor pups last moments were in a place he hated the most.

After a series of some tests, the vet told my parents he had a large amount of fluid around his heart and that there were two options a) to put him down or b) a cardiac procedure that would be done in Madison, but served as no guarantee. They realized the pup was about maxed on his doggy-life years, so they opted to put him down. My mom couldn’t stomach the thought of bringing home a collar and telling my sisters, so while she called my sisters to inform them — my dad started his route home to get them. Fortunately, they were all able to say their final good-byes to him. The vet even allowed them to stay with him while she put him down. (yes, I know .. traumatic, right? my mom made sure to clarify it wouldn’t “get messy,” and repeatedly asked the girls if this was what they wanted to do). Margaret held his head in her lap, while the rest of the family petted him.

It brings comfort to my brother and I knowing that our family was able to be there with him in his final moments, and that he’s running around in doggy-heaven eating lots of carrots and going on as many walks as he wants.