Am supposed to say goodbye on Thursday

I am so sorry to hear about your sweet Tuffy and his battle.  May you take peace in knowing that you gave him probably the best 6 months of his life and more love and happiness than many dogs ever find in this world.  You have done a wonderful thing for him and are continuing to do so by choosing the more difficult path of ending his suffering and allowing him to find peace.
 
My thoughts will be with you this week.
 
Shelly, JJ and Prudence

Moon and tuffys mom, I know it is something hard to face. I was awaiting the same answer from my lil girl, when she made the decision for me. It is hard to say goodbye. Hurts like H e double hockey sticks for sure my friend.
But, his life with you, has taught you many things I am sure. They are not ours to keep but to learn from. There was a reason for him to be with you, and a reason he chose you. It is never easy to ease their pain and let them go. But know this.. . He will thank you for being his best friend, and you will see each other again some day.
My heart aches for you and am sending you strength, comfort and a dry shoulder to cry on.

Aww, he's a cute little guy...I'm sorry you have to say good-bye.  At least his final months were filled with your love and he knows it.

I am so sorry for Tuffy and you.  Know that Tuffy feels comforted by you.  And let Tuffy know that by your message here, he has touched many of us and we also say good bye.  Tuffy you are truly loved.

I can't tell you what your messages to me mean.  It is overwhelming to be touched by others who understand the deep love I have for Tuffy and the overwhelmingly profound sadness I'm feeling at the prospect of losing him.  Thank you for reaching out to me; a total stranger w/ your kind words and support.  I've gotten choked up w/ each reply. 
 
I will return to your words for strength and comfort throughout this painful time.  I hope to hear from more of you.  Knowing you're all out there, putting out words of love for Tuffy-it's like the biggest hug I can imagine.  For both Tuffy and for me.
 
I love the idea that he and I picked each other.  I was so, so blessed to love him. 

Oh I so understand ... from all the angles you mention. 
 
Hoping that when YOU finally get to manage their health that it will make all the difference ... and sometimes it just doesn't. 
 
Hoping that your overwhelming, abundant, huge, overflowing love for an animal will stay the hand of illness ... and sometimes it just doesn't.
 
Hoping that you can, sometimes thru the sheer force of your own will, make it happen, make them well, make their lives longer ... and sometimes it just doesn't.
 
But think of it this way.  He's had six precious wonderful months with you.  Months when he could be sick and SOMEONE CARED.  Months when he didn't feel good, and someone noticed ... someone **tried** .... someone DID something. 
 
Tuffy knows.  Oh my goodness, he knows.  He knows how much you love him.  He knows how much you care.  He knows and he wishes he could stay with you.
 
But he also trusts you.  He knows you *will* listen when he tells you he's gone as far as he can.  He knows you love him enough that he can let you know how he really feels. 
 
I'll be honest ... it's painful .. oh lord it is so so so painful.  But when a dog loves you enough and trusts you enough to allow themselves to be honest and let you help bring that final rest ... that's an incredible display of love. 
 
He doesn't want his goodbye stolen ... he is saying goodbye to you in the only way he can.  Rather than just hide how he really feels and then just go suddenly, he's letting you see and know so he can prepare you and say goodbye.
 
In complete honesty, I've lost animals in many different ways, and when an animal lets you know he's ready, he's done ... that's a trust that is beyond compare.  Saving them further pain, trauma, indignity -- that he will trust you with that is incredible.  And later, when you look back you will know you did all you could and he was ready.  You'll never have to wonder 'if' because you simply did what he asked (and they aren't wrong ... )
 
You won't forget anything.  Take time between now and then to just sit and memorize.  Talk and talk and talk and talk. 
 
Tell him all you ever wanted him to know.  Tell him about Rainbow Bridge and who he will see there.  But if you commit it all to memory you won't forget any of it. 
 
Talk with him about memories and what he's done for YOU.  Tell him why he's so important to you.  And tell him to wait for you beyond Rainbow Bridge. 
 
It's always such a short time, but it was what he needed.  He waited to spend this time with you.  He could have given up long ago.  But you've stored up a lot of memories with this time. 
 
it's never ever enough.  But it was his best.  He's got a heart full of memories. 
 
And after ... let us help you.  I've lost 4 in the past two years ... all very different circumstances and yet I know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that each one knew they were loved to the max.  All different.  But all full of love.
 
Tuffy is full of love ... your heart won't forget one single instant of it.

Oh, my heart is breaking for you as you face this profoundly sad and difficult time.  I know from having been in the same position of having to help a beloved furbaby go to the Bridge that no words take away the pain in your heart.  I also know the awful feeling of counting days and moments, fearing you won't remember the feel and scent of his fur, the sound of his breathing and footsteps, etc.  When we knew our boy was in his final weeks with us, I spent hours and hours lying with him, making sure the house was silent, no distractions.  I talked to him (like Callie said), telling him a million times how much I loved him and how I cherished every minute of our lives together.  I recounted stories to him of when he was a puppy, and I told him about the special friends he would see again at the Bridge so he wouldn't be alone while he waits for us.  And of course, I handled him constantly, memorizing every curve of his shape.  I tried to be 100% mindful of what I was doing during those hours, and I think it helped make my memories vivid.  If it's dark and quiet (like when I can't fall asleep), I can almost feel his ears, his neck, all the places he loved to be touched.
 
Callie eloquently described the disappointment and regret that comes with hoping/wishing that our devoted care and deep love is enough to keep them healthier and with us longer.  I tend to be someone who struggles with focusing on the negative, so I'd feel very bad, like you said, that he had so many years without the kind of attention and care you gave him.  But, as hard as it would be for me to do, it's easy for me to say now that you have to focus on what a blessing it was that he shared such wonderful months with you.  We have to believe that those short months will be what stay in his memory -- not the earlier years.
 
You have lots of understanding people here - we've been down the same path of sadness.  You're not alone in your feelings.  You're in my thoughts.

What a cutie. And such a sweetheart, too. I'm so sorry you have to say goodbye. But like others said, he knew he was loved. You gave him the best life possible.

We let Ursa go on the 24th of March, it went through our heads over the week or two before we let her go , that we would have to let her go soon. Her health was getting frail, her heart was giving out. I am certain that she would have held out another month till her 15th birthday, but since she was rapidly failing, we did not want to take the risk and put her through any agony or pain. We kept her life as comfortable and pain free as we could. She got a baby aspirin a couple times a week and a daily glucosamine tablet for the last 5 years. We spoiled her rotten. Don't be afraid to shed tears, many of them. I did and still get a few yet and it has been 10 days now.
When we let Oshota go , we knew because she told us. It was so clear that what she wanted was to be let go, that she may as well of screamed it out loud, her spondylosis caused her to become paralyzed from the waist down, Oshota gave it her all for 23 days and on the last day she said that she did not want to do this anymore, we called the vet and took her in and she was gone in an hour. We knew over Ursa's last week that it was coming up, we called the vet on Friday and he came at 5:30 pm and she was gone at 5:36. Ursa had an appetite till the very end and was alert, but it was her heart. We got Oshota when Ursa was around 10 months old, we lost Oshota 9 months before Ursa. Last September I helped bury one of my clients collies, Moxie and a month and a half later her collie friend Billy, they were both 12 years old, Moxie died in her sleep and Billy went into a diabetic coma . They were sweet dogs, I loved them even though I only say them once a week. I still have my Chelsea, she is a very sweet girl, she is 6 and I hope to have many more years with her.

And let Tuffy know that by your message here, he has touched many of us and we also say good bye. Tuffy you are truly loved.

Agreed.  I am soo so sorry for you and the pain of letting Tuffy go.  He's a beautiful boy and he will remain so, even when he's not within reach of your touch.  His time with you, in your loving care, is a testament to your bond.  You've undoubtedly earned a most honorable place in his heart, as he has in yours.  He will remain there, I'm sure.  Please continue to share here, we'll be there in support whenever you need.

I'm sorry for your pain and loss.  Tuffy knows you love him and will be waiting at the Bridge for you.  {{{hugs}}}

Hi everyone,
 
I sit here at work, staring at the clock, trying to figure out how early I can leave so I can get home to Tuffy.  I feel like screaming when I read emails about printer error problems or status inquiries into expense reports.  I have this movie-like image in my mind of picking up my bag and walking out of here forever.  Tuffy and me, Thelma and Louise-style.  But I know that's just b/c my feelings are electric right now; that I'm so fully charged-the banality of life has no hold on me right now. 
 
I'm feeling all sorts of anger-at the stupid work stuff, at one of my closest friends who's offering no real support (she didn't grow up w/ animals and doesn't really like them; one of her worst qualities), at my parents for doing such a crappy job, at the world in general, and at time.  All the time I'm not going to have with Tuff.
 
I slept holding him last night and this morning I could tell I should have made the appointment for today.  He's comfortable but when he looked at me I could see that I'd pushed it.  I'd gone one day too long. 
 
Moonpie, our rescued shih tzu-who is the most difficult dog I have ever known-is on tenterhooks.  He's a tough little guy who bites (first dog of my life w/ that problem) and would probably have been put down if fate hadn't brought him to me.  Despite his fear aggression, or perhaps because of it, he's an incredibly intuitive and intelligent dog.  He's been on his best behavior since Tuffy has really gotten sick-no acting out, no jealousy, which I've found astounding.  Tuffy was such a calming, patient influence on Moonpie.  I fear for Moonie w/o Tuffy. 
 
God forgive me, but I've been resentful that it's Tuffy leaving me and not Moonpie.  Life w/ Moonpie is a constant struggle filled w/ special arrangements and strict discipline.  Life with Tuffy was like a pillow; soft, safe, warm, comforting.
 
I would imagine being left with Moonpie is a life lesson-that there will be growth for all of us in it.  But, I gotta tell ya, if I don't feel like growing.
 
I keep putting the cart before the horse thinking-do I get another dog?  Would that be the best thing for Moonpie?  A calm, sweet dog (Moonpie shows absolutely no aggression toward other dogs.  Strike that, he barks when he's afraid at the dog park, for instance, but does not become aggressive as he does w/ humans) who will influence him in the way that Tuffy did?  Or, am I just thinking that b/c it's something I can fix and control?  Am I trying to gloss over all the pain of losing Tuffy by figuring out how best to "fix" Moonpie?
 
Your messages are buoying me; you guys are getting me through the day.  Thank you for taking the time to write something.  Thank you for making me feel less alone in this.  I'm scared of how much it's going to hurt.

Try not to focus on the "should haves" or the "what ifs" and look at the last several months where you gave Tuffy the love and attention he deserved.  I'm not going to lie, it will hurt like crazy when you let him go.  The dog in my avatar is my heart dog Shari who I lost in June 2006.  I still have pangs of guilt about whether or not I gave her the best life possible, did I let her linger too long, did I not try enough.  I loved her very much, like you do Tuffy, and that counts for a lot.  He knows it as much as Shari knew it.
 
I know you are concerned about Moonpie, but try to take things one day at a time with him as well.  He knows his friend is ailing and nearing the end of his life.  He may surprise you further.  I know you are concerned for Moonie, but try to give your positive love & energy to Tuffy in his last hours and worry about Moonpie tomorrow or Friday.
 
I understand your anger - it's never fair and we certainly don't get to keep the ones we want as long as we'd like.  Even if your friends or family don't understand, we do, so you can come here and we will understand.  Many have been through this and we know what a profound effect a dog can have on us.  It's okay to care about, laugh,  and cry over them.

I will say a prayer for you Thursday...I lost my Lhasa, Muffy, Jan 5th and I still grieve for her..I had to take her to the vet and let her go on a cold, rainy day...I slept holding her the night before and could not even look at her in the morning...but she knew I loved her and she loved me.  It was time and God is helping me heal my heart.  We did get a puppy mill dog - a Shih Tzu named Sadie and she is making me laugh again.  But Muffy's pic is on my mirror and I talk to her often.  I think she is proud I helped rescue another dog ...my Muffy will be there to greet your Tuffy and they will run free together...let us know how you are doing...these people here are wonderful...they helped me so much!