#ive been replaying this in my head in an endless loop so im hoping writing it out helps me

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It all happened within 24 hours. I got home from work around 7pm, usual for Tuesdays. I had had such a bad day at work, nothing really that bad happened, but I was cooped up in a room all day with just my thoughts and I had been so hard on myself. I just felt like getting home and snuggling with Jasper and crying. But I got home and started getting Jasper ready to go for a walk, and he was SO excited to see me that he was bouncing around and was literally bounding down the hallway, turning around to make sure I was close by and then bounding at me. He was being so goofy that I thought to myself, “Aw man, he makes me feel so much better. None of that matters.” Our walk was so great, we went on his favorite route and he saw three of his friends: The old man that loves him (Jasper is a little suspicious of him but accepts the pats), the angry chihuahua (that he loves pestering) and Mr. Corgi (who he also loves to pester). It was very exciting. All of the plum trees were blossoming and they smelled so good that I kept grabbing some and smelling them and he wanted to see what they were, so I showed him some and he gave it a good sniff then decided he didn’t care because he couldn’t eat it. So I set the flowers on his head, and one stayed on there for awhile. We went back to my apartment where an hour later I started getting sad again, so I laid on his dog bed and was hugging him and being sad while he rolled around on me and nuzzled me. It was making me feel so much better, and then I thought, “what the hell am I going to do when he dies?” And I started crying. 

No more than two hours later, I started getting ready to pick up Andrew from work. He was acting sad, like something was wrong, and I thought it was because he thought I was leaving and not coming back (I’d just recently come back from a 1 day trip to see my mom). I texted Andrew that something was wrong with Jasper, but I just thought that he was sad. I picked up Andrew from work and we went straight back to my apartment to take him out for a walk. He wouldn’t get up even when I picked up his leash, and he gave me that sad look again and I knew something was wrong. I offered him his favorite treat to see if he’d get up and he wouldn’t even take it. I was thinking, maybe he was blocked up? He did just get into the garbage yesterday and didn’t poop much on his walk earlier today? So we eventually lifted him up, and he hobbled over to the stairs and refused to go down them. I carried him down and we took him outside, and he just laid down and looked at me, like he was trying to tell me something was wrong. So Andrew carried him back inside and we laid him on my bed while we called the emergency vet at WSU (it was close to 12am at this point). They told me to bring him in, so we did immediately. It was a long car ride, because he was deteriorating fast (drooling, shaking, looking completely bewildered). We finally got there and they rushed him to the back, and that was when I could really tell how much pain he was in. 

It was a long night of sitting in the waiting room. The vet came out and told us that he had fluid in his abdomen. Then we waited some more. She came back out with three tubes filled with blood, and said it was bad. That’s when I started crying. We waited some more. She came back out to tell me that he had a bleeding mass, most likely on his spleen. She gave me about a million different ways that it could play through, from best case scenario, the bleeding would resolve itself, and worst case scenario being that it’s a cancerous mass and he has 6 months to live. It was so overwhelming. But it was clear that he probably needed surgery to stop the bleeding, but they needed more imaging done so that they knew what they were dealing with and to also keep him overnight. She gave me a quote of $5000-6000 for the surgery, which I needed to pay upfront as a deposit in the morning. The plan was that they’d keep him overnight and do surgery in the morning, after the imaging. We were able to go see him in the ICU before we left, and he was doing a lot better after getting IV fluids. He came out of his cage and we hugged him a lot, and then he went back into his cage on his own and plopped down and was acting generally happy and okay with his sleepover situation. The vet was optimistic that fluids helped so much. But was still bleeding, and the 6 months to live prognosis was repeated.

So then we had to go home without him. We were barely out of the parking lot when he broke down. I put my car in park at a stop sign and we held each other and cried. Neither of us really slept at all that night, I kept waking up thinking I heard my phone ring. Morning came around and I got ahold of my parents, and they said they’d help me with the deposit. The WSU vet tech called me at 7am, saying he made it through the night but needed the deposit because he needed surgery. We got it figured out and they started on imaging on abdomen (to see how big the bleeding mass was and if they could remove it with a splenectomy, and to also see if his liver was affected) and cardiac imaging (to see if it was affected as well before they proceeded with surgery). Then it was just waiting. Andrew and I just sat on my bed and waited. It was around noon I think when the vet called back.

He said that Jasper had masses on his spleen and throughout his liver, and they took a biopsy and had it tested. He was diagnosed with hepatic hemangiosarcoma in his spleen and liver, an aggressive and fast spreading cancer. They gave me the option to do the surgery and remove his spleen and portions of his liver to stop the bleeding, and afterwards chemotherapy. With this they couldn’t even guarantee that the bleeding could be stopped, but if it could he would have only 3 months to live. The other option was to just do chemotherapy, with no guarantee how long he would live, what response he would have, or if the bleeding would stop. The last option was exploratory surgery and then reassess. 

I called my mom and talked to Andrew, and decided that the best option was to bring him home and do an in-home euthanasia. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I knew that he was already such a sensitive boy, and recovering from surgery would have taken many painful months and that doing that to him would just be cruel and selfish. I could barely wrap my head around it, because how could this be happening? He’s so active and happy. In January, we saw the vet to test one of his new fatty lumps (he had a lot, and they were always fatty tumors but I had every single one checked). He also had a cough and we did chest xrays and blood work, and the vet gave him a clean bill of health because he was completely healthy (except for his weight and that his teeth needed cleaned again). It was literally 4 months ago. It was literally the night before he had been romping around down the hallway and letting me put flowers on his head.

So I called my vet and made the appointment for 5:30 pm. We went and got him at 2pm, but the wait took forever. I just wanted to be with him again because we only had hours left. When we finally got him, he was so lethargic and confused and just collapsed on my lap. The team that worked on him said goodbye to him and gave me the blanket he’d been using and reassured me that I was making the right decision. He had to be carried to my car and I sat in the back with him on the way back and held his head. I couldn’t believe that it was happening

We finally laid him down in his bed and laid down next to him. We cried and gave him a few pepperoni. I held him and stroked his ears and his face. He was shaking and kept snapping his head up, looking around all bewildered. I think he was in pain and didn’t know where it was coming from. He was so in and out of it. But I had a heart to heart with him, close enough so he could hear me and his eyes locked with mine as if he understood what I was saying. Our vet was delayed to 6:30, and at that point I was just crying because I couldn’t stand seeing him in so much pain. I felt like I was prolonging it. He was so painful and was scared except for when he would realize it was me or where he was. It hadn’t even been 24 fucking hours since our walk when he’d been perfectly fine.

And then our vet and a vet tech came over. We’d been saying our goodbyes for a couple hours by then, but we said bye one last time. Seeing and feeling him shake and the heat coming off of him was killing me. I held him in my arms and kissed his head when he fell asleep. He was already so limp to begin with that there was no difference from awake to asleep. And then he was gone. I held him while the tech got his pawprint. Eventually I had to leave his side. Andrew held my face against his chest and wouldn’t let go until they had his body inside the little cardboard coffin that they brought. 

And just like that my best friend for 10 years was gone forever.

The treat I had used to try to get him up was still on my counter. There’s still food in his bowl with his tennis ball right next to it. The three empty dog beds so that he would always have a comfy place to be. His treats, supplements, and poop bags are right next to the door. The hook on my fridge for his leash. My tiny studio apartment was just mine and Jasper’s. That’s what made it so great. It still feels like he’s still at the vet and he’s coming back. He was my best friend and my roommate. My schedule revolved around him. 

It’s been 5 days since he’s died but it still feels like yesterday. My mom came up the day after he died. I took work off and so did Andrew, and today is the first day in my apartment by myself. I don’t know what I would’ve done without Andrew. He’s held me and cried with me and has barely left my side. I know that it put him back to when he lost his mom. He had been alone for that. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. The day after Jasper died, we had to go down to our vet to pay for the euthanasia and his cremation. He helped me pick out an urn. And when it came time to pay he refused to let me pay, even though it was almost $400. I had the money but he wouldn’t let me and said it was the least he could do. His kindness and love has really held me together.

I know that Jasper loved me so much and that I was his person. He was my soul dog and my best buddy. At 15 years old I know that he lived a good, long life, even though that doesn’t stop this from being so sudden. I’m so thankful that we came into each others lives. He always wanted me to be happy and was quick to investigate and nuzzle me whenever I was crying. He loved Andrew too, and Andrew loved him. I hope Jasper rests easy knowing that Andrew will always keep me safe. I’ll never have another dog like him. I keep expecting to see his face, or hear him walking across the hardwood floor. Every second I spend away from my apartment, I get hit with that guilt of “I need to get home to my dog”, and then I remember. I know that with time it’ll get better, but whenever I think about that I think about wanting to go back into time just to spend more time with him. I miss him so much.