R.I.P Polar

Today was a terrible day.  Polar has been having a lot of issues with his back legs.  His left back leg has been almost useless and he frequently ends up with his paw upside down.  The past month or two he has been pooping on the floor.  I am not sure if it is because he couldn't control it or because it was too hard to go outside.  I think it was a combination of both.  When there was snow outside he couldn't even stand in the snow and would fall down.  He couldn't walk on the tile floor and had to stay only on the carpet or rugs we laid down for him.  Then he started pooping and falling down in it because he couldn't hold himself up.  It was sad for both of us, he didn't like having to be cleaned up and I felt really bad for him.  Then he started peeing on the floor.  Again, I am not sure why, but likely because he couldn't control it.

Today I called the vet to schedule an appointment to have him looked at to see what they thought and if it was actually time to put him down.  Of course they had one available appointment today.  I was thinking that it would be scheduling a couple of days from now.  But I have been trying to ready myself for this for weeks.  I decided we should take the appointment because it would be like "ripping the bandaid off."  I asked Pedro and he said, well maybe we should wait until next week.  I said if we wait until next week, I will tell us to wait until the next week.  It's not something I wanted to do, but I guess inside I was hoping they would have a magical cure, or at least we would know.

Pedro had no sympathy during this process.  I was crying before we even left the house.  Pedro's advice to me was "don't think about it."  Right right.  The appointment was made and we had an hour before the appointment.  We got in the car and headed to the vet.

At the appointment the vet saw him and said that his legs were really bad. That there really wasn't much hope for him and it was probably hard for him to be falling in his poop and unable to control himself.   He said that most boxers only live about 9 years and not many make it to 10 and 11 years.  Both Stella and Polar are about 9 years old. This still doesn't make me feel better.  He said that he probably wasn't in pain because the nerves seemed to not be working in the back.  But that if we wanted to prolong it the only option was high doses of vitamin B, which might help the nerves that are still working.   I knew it was time but I was sobbing.  I told him that I guess it was time to put him down.

I stayed with Polar while they gave him his sedative to calm him down and help him relax.  I gave him some of his favorite treats and pet him.  Pedro and Zuri left and went to the park across the street.  Pedro did look quite sad upon leaving and gave Polar a big kiss before he left.  Zuri gave Polar a nice pet and a kiss before she left.  

I sat with him and talked to him while he calmed down and laid down.  Then the vet came back in and gave him his "overdose of anesthesia."  It was very calm, but still very traumatic to me.  I have had Polar for about 8.5 years and he has been a big part of our lives.  He was such a sweet dog and I loved him very much and I will miss him!

Stella and Polar LOVE...

Love you Polar!