Sunday, September 21, 2008

Sunday 09/21/08

The next morning, Harley was a little better. He was able to get up with assistance, and went outside. He continued to improve, and seemed to be getting back to his old self. Yesterday morning when I woke up and went outside, I knew something was wrong. Harley did not look well at all, and when he finally stood up there was dried blood where he had been sleeping. He went to the yard and urinated dark amber urine. His kidneys were shutting down. Unlike last time, I contacted my soon to be ex. I had to communicate through his sister since he has no phone. She was at work and said she would send him over as soon as she got home. I waited and waited all the time watching Harley get worse. Harley looked at me and his eyes said 'I'm finished'. I begged him to hold on just a few more minutes, told him that his daddy was coming. When Jason finally arrived Harley could barely lift his head. I put the ball in Jason's court and told him that he had to take Harley and do what was right. He agreed and began packing Harley's food and water dishes, treats and toys. I told him that Harley was not going to make it that long. I told Jason that I would not let him take Harley if he was not going to do the right thing. When the time came for Harley to get in the car, he collapsed in the doorway of the porch, looked at me and said 'Please let me die here'. I went inside and cried in shame and sadness. I couldn't handle anymore. I couldn't handle seeing my ex, I couldn't handle watching my dog die, and I couldn't handle seeing my ex taking my dog away to die. Harley died at Jason's mom and dad's house the next afternoon at 1:30.

Monday, September 8, 2008


Technically, it's his dog. Not that I don't love Harley, but I shouldn't have to be the one to make this decision. Divorce in itself is hard enough. Harley is a 12 year old German Shepard. Even in poor health he weighs in at over 100 pounds. It's been 2 months since I kicked my husband out. I couldn't take the lies anymore. At some point he briefly mentioned coming to get his 'best friend', but has never made any kind of effort to do so. He knew Harley's health was rapidly deteriorating, and I have left him several messages expressing this. When I came home last night, Harley pulled himself up off the porch and went out to roam the yard. I watched his legs shake and helped him into the house where he collapsed in the living room. That's where he is now. Still. He can't get up, and I can't move him. I have laid in the floor next to him and cried all day, but his eyes tell me that it's time to make the decision. The big one that all pet owners dread making. The one I shouldn't have to make. In the morning I will call and see if any vets in our area make house calls.