A long goodbye

Jackson is dying. His hind quarters are on the verge of being completely non-functional. He is almost a paraplegic due to something called Wobblers Syndrome, a disease of the spinal column where the vertebras constrict the space where the spinal cord exists. The compressing spinal cord is no longer able to send signals to the rear legs so they slowly fail to work. He isn't in any pain but he will be crippled. If he were a younger dog he'd be a good candidate for surgery but he's too old to withstand a long recovery and rehabilitation. There is no cure and no shortcut to recovery.

The speed with which this happened has been astonishing. I've always known that big dogs had hip problems and knew that this would probably be his Achilles Heel. But it's accelerated so quickly over the last three weeks that I can hardly believe it. I've watched him go from being graceful, strong and athletic to being a mere shadow of his former self almost within months. What makes this doubly hard is that he's not in pain. He's just as happy and bushy-tailed as he's always been. It's just that his hind quarters don't work. And there is no cure, no do-over or last minute rescue for him this time. He will be paralyzed soon and there is nothing I can do about it.

One day soon, it could be in four days or four weeks, I will have to make the decision that I'm so afraid of making. I will call the vet and have him come out to the house to put poor Jackson to sleep. I will look into his amber eyes and watch the life drain out of him and wonder if he'll forgive me or if I did the right thing or if I could have done more. I have to find a way to make these last days of his happy ones, I'll do my level best. I don't have to overcompensate by telling him that I love him to pieces, I've talked to him that way for years. Which makes the whole thing that much harder. If there's an afterlife I hope he's in it, he'll be the first one I look for.