If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you will know that this week has been an emotional one for me. On Wednesday, my sweet 8-year old bloodhound Harold, began showing signs he was suffering from some sort of ailment. Harold is a big boy of about 140 pounds, and was pretty much immobile due to his ailment...I could not get him to his veterinarian's office, and over a couple hours Wednesday afternoon, it became clear that his condition was not one that was going to improve. I desperately tried to find a mobile vet that could come out immediately and examine Harold to no avail. I finally found one that could come out on Friday, and unfortunately by the time he was able to be examined his condition was imminently dire. The only option was to put Harold down.
If you have ever had to euthanize a pet, you will know just how heart-wrenching it is. Thankfully, the mobile vet was able to give Harold a sedative first that made him basically fall asleep, and I do not think he aware of what was happening. He died in my arms. Let's just say I cried pretty much all of Friday, and had a few teary episodes this weekend. I know it was the only humane decision, and a part of responsible pet ownership.
I got Harold when he was 7 weeks old from a breeder in Southern California. He weighed 20 pounds at that age, and we all knew he would be a big one, eventually growing to 140 pounds. He was such a character and definitely ruled the household.
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