Did you ever listen to that old song “Seasons In The Sun” by Terry Jacks…?

It’s deceptively happy, at least the music is. It’s a bit upbeat and popish. But the lyrics are incredibly depressing… In fact, my title today is part of the lyrics. Sounds like a real downer, doesn’t it…? Well, unfortunately, today’s entry is going to be a bit of a downer, I’m sorry to say. So If you don’t want to fall prey to sadness, you may want to not read this.

June 29th, I finally said goodbye to one of the best friends I ever had… my dog Nobu…

I had seen a Shiba Inu in a pet store and decided I wanted one. Lucky for me, a few months later, I learned the local shelter had found some running loose in a field (abandoned by the breeder, I assume) and two were puppies, Nobu and his sister. I was so anxious to go see them! Nobu wasn’t so much chosen as he chose. He knew who he was meant to be with, never left my side at the shelter. That’s when I knew, “This is my dog… I was chosen…”

And what a great dog he was…

He loved kids, people (especially meeting new people) and was just such a happy, carefree soul. And he was so quirky. He would run through the house, front end down, ass in the air, his front legs splayed out all crazy. He was afraid of oven mitts, so I would often put one on and chase him through the house with it. He loved that game…

There are so many reasons I could give you as to why Nobu was one of the best dogs and best friends I ever had… He was just such an odd dog, he really went together well with my odd personality. And he was so loving… Everyone loved Nobu, even his vets. He was my buddy. He kept me company and always made me laugh when I was down.

And he just loved snow!

Snow days were his favorite days. He would run through the yard like a nut, kicking up snow everywhere. He also liked to bury his nose down into it and make a wet mess of himself. It was nearly impossible to get him back in the house no matter how cold it was or how cold he got. Snow was one of his favorite things in the world.

But, as with most dogs, I began to see some changes as he reached double digits…

He was starting to slow down, suffering from the beginning of arthritis. Over the next two years, the arthritis got worse and some new symptoms reared their ugly heads. He had suffered from seizures for years that were kept under control by meds, but then the anxiousness began. He was starting to suffer from dementia. He was losing muscle tone in his legs and had cataracts that were slowly making his vision worse.

Then came the other problems…

Nobu was growing very thin and suddenly started drinking a lot of water. And when I say a lot, I mean he would drink a full bowl in one shot and then have accidents because he either couldn’t hold it or had no time to let me know he had to go. Maybe he didn’t know he had to go… As time went on, it got worse and I had to give him only a little water at a time in intervals to prevent accidents. But then we started having other types of accidents on the floor. He turned 12 in February (84 in human years) so I didn’t expect everything to work right. But the vet and I suspected there was more going on because of the excessive drinking, either diabetes or kidney failure. Neither was a good diagnosis…

He began falling a lot, his legs turning in or dragging, and the dementia was getting so bad that he wasn’t always recognizing people (even me) and was snapping at the cats, which he never did. He even snapped at me once. I know how dementia progresses in people and decided I wanted to put him to rest before he bit someone or had worse physical issues. That wouldn’t be the Nobu I wanted to remember because that wasn’t the Nobu he always was…

So I made the appointment and took him for his final vet visit on the 29th…

I was a mess… I cried and told him that he was one of the best friends I ever had, but it was time to say goodbye. I hugged and kissed him, told him how much I loved him and would miss him… I stayed with him the whole time… And, once he was gone, I had as much time as I needed. I just kept stroking his cheek, crying, talking to him… I had such a hard time leaving him behind. I couldn’t tear myself away, but eventually, I had to. It was the most horrible feeling…

Now my house is too quiet… I can’t stand it…

I know I did the right thing for him, even the vet told me that. But, if it was so right, why do I feel so fucking lousy?! It’s the guilt… I had to put two prior cats to rest and both times I felt this guilt. I know it was a kindness to end the suffering, but I feel like shit for doing it. But it’s my cross to bear and I’ll learn to live with it, just like the other two times, I suppose…

“Goodbye my friend, it’s hard to die”…

It’s hard for the people you leave behind…

Rest in Peace, my furry baby… You had a good life, a good 12 years. Sometimes I think I didn’t save you as much as you saved me… I miss you so much and you will always be in my heart. I love you, Nobu…