A friend recently told me about having to put down his beloved dog. We had both done this before and knew the anguish. Your mind can recite the reasons, but your heart has feelings of its own. And we can’t consult our pets, to ask for input on this hard decision.
Several years ago, I adopted a cat named Chloe, a beautiful calico with blue eyes. A few months later, she developed a fatal illness and the vet said she was days away from serious pain. The decision was obvious but not to Chloe.
She ran around the examining room, dodging the vet with the agility of a cat who wanted to live. My logic fell to pieces, but I managed to keep petting her until the end.
My friend told me about his dog, how disabled she had become with age. How hard the decision. “It doesn’t get any easier,” I said and he nodded.
Later, I emailed him and apologized. “It shouldn’t get any easier,” I said. “Grief isn’t something to get better at. It’s a measure of love, the immeasurable love.”
