Since we are 50 miles from the nearest veterinarian, and across state lines besides, he would/could not come to our town/house to help us (yes, I asked). So Annie had to endure an uncomfortable and unsettling car ride, during which she was restless, would not lay still, and evacuated her bowels. Then we got to the clinic, and had to take her inside and put her on the metal table-- something else I did not want to subject her to. Then... and it was over by the time I realized (pay attention, this might be important to have in mind when any of you has to go through this), but the vet technician/receptionist held Annie still while the vet did his work. Mr. F and I stood where she could see us the whole time, and talked to her, but I saw fear and pleading in her eyes as she looked at me, and she struggled a little as the medicine went in. After she was buried, and I walked away from the grave, I realized she wanted *ME* to hold her as she went to sleep, not that other lady, as nice as she was. And it took awhile for her heart to finally stop beating, even after she was unconscious. So we had to wait. They bundled her up and put her in the car for us. We took her out to our brother in law's farm, where he raises cattle. He used a backhoe to dig a grave, and we buried her under a very large apple tree, where several other dogs from that family are also buried.So it is just Dottie now. Dogs don't grieve the way humans do, and I think Dottie knew this day was coming. Plus, Mr. F talked to her, and I think Annie must have talked to her too. Anyway, Dottie is handling it just fine. She will be the only dog for the rest of her life, and will get to soak up all that undivided attention that Annie had before Dottie came to us.
I miss her so much! My heart is broken, and I am sobbing as I type this.
