Well, it all went as well as could be expected.
We all got together at home to talk, tell stories, laugh and cry as we made a fuss of Ruby in her final hours. I must confess I snuck a wee bit of diazepam in with her gabapentin, my desire for a peaceful final trip to the vet overriding my fear of being told off. The medications went down very easily with a little can of expensive dog food. She must have thought she was finally getting the treatment she deserved, if only everyone would stop crying all the time.
The vet was running a bit late, which gave us some more quality time with her, sitting in the Tesla in the rain outside the vet clinic in our old suburb of Karori. By the time they rang us to say they were ready, she was quite calm. The first injection of sedative was into the muscle and must have a stung a bit because she yelped, but it worked quickly, and she was soon lying back, tongue lolling. The final, intravenous injection of some luminous green liquid was what killed her, and it was very smooth and peaceful.
When we had Katie put down, a couple of years ago, I had my husband with me to look after all the details, pay the bills, do the paperwork, drive the car, etc, so I was free to go to pieces. This time, I was the one who had to hold it together. Luckily the particularly exciting ending of the Black Caps v Sri Lankan cricket test provided a very welcome distraction. It’s awful to see your kids so distressed, though. I wish I could magically take the pain away. I suppose it’s all a useful learning experience. And what are they learning? That dogs just don’t live long enough, Goddammit.
Lots of lovely messages from friends and family were really appreciated, thanks all.