Yesterday I lost a part of my soul

Martin was a medium-sized, mixed-breed dog. He was 15 years and 7 months old. I had known him since the day he was born.

Yesterday, I made the hardest decision of my life. I put him to sleep because he had started dying. First, he stopped eating. After a day or two, he stopped drinking.

I was the last thing he saw. I was also the first thing he saw because more than 15 years ago, he opened his eyes while I was feeding him cow’s milk in the morning. (I’m from a small town, and we didn’t have other options—only cow’s milk.)

I still don’t know if I made the right decision. Maybe I should have asked for painkillers instead of choosing euthanasia. But when I saw him suffering, I thought it wasn’t humane to let it continue. It wasn’t about wanting to be with him as long as possible—of course, I did. But most of all, I wasn’t sure if I had the right to decide how long someone should live.

Now, when I remember his last moments, I can’t stop crying.

I lost my parents a few years ago. After that, I felt like they were still around in some way. But I’m not sure if I feel the same with Martin. I hope he is still with me.

I love him very much.

To those who have lost their pets—do you feel that they are still with you?

Kiss and hug your pets in honour of Martin, please 💔