Felt More Than a Little Guilty
January 19, 2009

When I heard the news of his passing, I could only swear and curl up on the couch. I barely shed a tear, and I don’t know why; I loved him so much. He was an important member of our family and one of my best friends.

His health failed so suddenly and hit us all hard; one day he was running and playing, the next he couldn’t climb the stairs by himself. Further degradation of his condition left him unable to eat; soon he could barely lift his head. I sat next to him in this state, looking in his tear-laden eyes, unable to help ease the pain he was undoubtedly in.

The decision that came next was not easily made and our choices were difficult; engage in explorative surgeries in an attempt to discover the mysterious cause of his condition, or subject him to euthanasia. The doctor said that the probability of finding the cause and curing it were slim, and performing the surgeries would be risky and likely to cause more discomfort. We didn’t want to cause him any more pain, but we had no desire to give him up. Ultimately it was decided, with a heavy heart, to let him go before he got worse. I wasn’t there when he went, and it was some time before I heard the news, but somewhere in my heart I knew when it happened. I regret not being able to say goodbye one final time.

I know that this his death, in this situation, was ultimately inevitable and natural, but part of me feels like it is somewhat my fault and that there was something I could’ve done to prevented it, or at least delayed it. My mind was flooded with “ifs;” would it have helped if I had gone out on more walks with him? Played with him more? Spent more time with him? I feel that I didn’t do all I could for him when I could’ve done it, like I failed him.

These thoughts plague me still, a month after his death, and I still feel they are true. I can’t blame myself though; I can’t blame anyone. In a way I know that nothing I could’ve done would’ve prevented it, but I still wish I’d done those things anyway when I had the chance; now I won’t see his smile or hear his voice again, except in my memory. I feel more than a little guilty for his condition and my lack of effort for when he was still around; I even feel guilty for having guilty feelings. All I can do now is keep him in my memory, and know that he is in a better place. I will always remember him, and will miss him daily; my friend, my sibling, my companion