2024 11 29

Today, my first pet of 15 years, a border collie named Lucky, was put down.

It is the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and my heart hurts.

Lucky had been getting old for some time now, but he experienced a rapid decline starting around fall last year. He started losing weight, and his hind legs began to lose strength. Because of this he’d stand around all day, since laying down and getting up was so difficult.

Last night I had to do that job for him.

More notable was his mental state. For the past two months or so, all he could do was stare out into space. My parents would leave the house to go downtown for a few hours, and Lucky would just stand on the lawn, staring up the driveway until they got back. Other times, he’d be inside and start whining while in the corner of the room, seemingly being out of it.

Getting in and out of the house became difficult in October or so. He would normally use the dog flap on the storm door, but now he’d refuse and whine until the storm door was opened. Later that month, he’d refuse to go up and down the small lip between the door and the floor of the house, and we’d have to support his legs as he stepped in.

While the conversation about Lucky’s age and his time had started late this summer, and we recently agreed to put him down after Thanksgiving, I am still struggling.

What’s most difficult about Lucky is the suddenness of it all. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d be rolling around in the grass, that he’d catch a frisbee, that he’d play fight with Dewey.

There’s always been a part of me that related with Lucky. When he was a puppy, he’d exhaust his social energy and retreat behind the couch. He would eventually break out of his shell more and learn tricks and play games, but he was always a bit strange. He didn’t dote on people and seek attention the same way many dogs do.