I bit the bullet and took Eddie for his final trip to the vets on Friday morning.
When I rang them to book, I cried.
When I got the the door, I cried.
When the vet called me in, I cried.
When I tried to explain, I cried.
When we went to the operating room, I cried.
As they anethsetised him , I cried.
When she put him to sleep, I cried.
He fought to the end, the little tyke. Nodding his head like a child who doesn't want to fall asleep. He wriggled around inside his anesthetic box, and ended up facing me with his nosed pressed against the side. She wrapped him in a towel and I stroked his little head as he faded away.
Our house is empty, quiet, less homely.
We decided to wear black all this week to mark Eddies passing.
As a childless couple I think Eddie was our first little child-type responsibility and we've both been hit hard by loosing him.