Grieving a lost pet

We had to put our chocolate lab to sleep today. Snickers was 12.5 years old and we've had him since I was a senior in high school. The vet once said he was the biggest lab that's ever come into the clinic. He kept my mom and grandpa company while my sister and I were away for college. When he got diagnosed with cancer almost a year ago, both me and my sister moved back in to take care of him. Might sound crazy to outsiders, but to us it made perfect sense to do since he watched over our family while we were at school. Anyways, it wasn't much trouble... it's hard not be please a dog when all he wants is a steady supply of burritos and Arby's sandwiches.

Because I work from home, I've had the opportunity to spend the last few months of his life right next to him. I've witnessed his ups and down, and surely he's suffered mine as well. I come to appreciate him best when I'd code late into the night, when he'd rest at my feet as I worked. I'd look over to check on him, usually expecting him to be asleep, but now and then I'd spot a glimmer of monitor light reflected in his eyes as he just stayed up and watched. It was comforting to know that he was always there with me as I worked while the rest of the world slept.

Today, we took him to the vet for the final time. He developed a cough, but we knew something worse was at hand. Ultimately, the tumor in his stomach had enveloped his whole chest and he was slowly suffocating. We decided to put him to sleep today -- even then, he outlived his best-case life expectancy scenario by half a year.

I've been staring at a blinking cursor all day, thinking I'd be able to work, but knowing deep down that I couldn't. Night's here now, but he's not.

I'm happy that he's at peace now, but, well...

How do you do it?

Snickers, I hope you're enjoying more roast beef sandwiches than you can handle. Woof woof.