A Heartbreaking Goodbye

Many of you know that my dog, Gideon, has been gravely ill. And I thank you for your patience while we’ve gone through this terrible time.

Today, we had to say goodbye.

In remembrance of my baby Gid I’ve posted this poem. A kind soul posted this on my FB page when Gid’s illness took an awful turn. Grab your Kleenex. You’re going to need it.


If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this — the last battle — can’t be won.

You will be sad I understand,
But don’t let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn’t want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they’ll tend.

Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Don’t grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We’ve been so close — we two — these years,
Don’t let your heart hold any tears.



  1. I’m so sorry for your loss. Our pets are family. We just got back from my dad’s funeral in GA and I wanted to video my little pugs excitement. He did his hyped-up half bark, half talk and squeaked and squealed…then fell over on his side and had a seizure. It only lasted a few seconds, but that’s the first time anything like that has happened. His face is white now instead of black and he’s just a little old man. He’s ten, but pugs often don’t live beyond eight. I noticed the dog sitter had left the water bowl dry…we were gone a week, don’t know how long it was dry.

    • Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry. That’s frightening. Gideon used to have seizures because of his diabetes. Incidentally, if you think it has to do with diabetes put Karo syrup on his tongue. It’ll bring him right out of the seizure. The hair color change is strange, huh?

      We do love them like family. I miss Gid so much. Thanks for your kind words. And I am so sorry to hear about your father. My condolences. Fire that dog sitter!

  2. I’m so so sorry Sue — my thoughts and condolences go out to you and your family. What a lovely post 🙂

  3. I’m sorry for your loss Sue. What a lovely touching poem.

  4. Oh Sue, I am so terribly sorry for your loss. I hope you can at least find peace in knowing that all Gideon’s ailments are gone and he is running free at Rainbow Bridge. 🙁

    • I do take peace in that. Matter of fact, last night I dreamed about him all night — running, playing, being reunited with the rest of his K9 family. It doesn’t make me miss him any less, but I know he’s not in pain any more, and that’s what’s really important. Thanks, Brenda.

  5. I’m sorry for your loss. Take care 🙁

    Anna from Elements of Writing

  6. I’m so sorry to read that Gideon has passed away. I was hoping for a last-minute miracle. As it happens, I’m currently reading A Big Little Life by Dean Koontz (http://www.amazon.com/Big-Little-Life-CD-Memoir/dp/B002U0KOVS), so it’s especially heartbreaking hearing your news…
    A big hug from Greece.

  7. Oh sweet Suzy-Q, I am SO incredibly sorry for you and Bob. I know how much you cherished Gideon (as you do ALL of your fur-babies!) Gid was so lucky to have you as his mother – because you are the most amazing, caring, loving soul and he knew that and felt it EVERY day! You and Bob were blessed with Gid by your sides for so many years – and he adored you and looked out for you – and took care of you both when you needed him. It hurts so bad, I know it does, but know that you gave Gid the final selfless gift and that is what makes you incredibly brave and a true-blue mother! I still miss Duo every day and am incredibly grateful to have Miss Roo and Sir Gatsby each day that I do. Thinking of you and sending you giant ((hugs)) and much love. xo xo xo My old Vet in MHD had that poem hanging in one of the rooms, I remember it well. P.S. I am happy to tell you that since Gid has crossed over the Rainbow Bridge he is absolutely chasing poor Duo all over the place! 😉

    • Before he left I told him he would get a new body, a healthy body, one which he could use to run and play, dart through fields of carrots and bones — eating as much as he desired along the way. A place where he’d never feel pain or get sick; where his K9 mom and dad awaited him, and where Bob and I would join him… later. A magical place where doggies and kitties were best friends and, who knows, maybe he’d find a kitty best friend, too. Perhaps Duo is that kitty.

      Thanks, Robin. You’re such a good friend.

  8. i’m very sorry for your loss, sue.

  9. I’m so sorry, Sue. I know what it feels like.
    I couldn’t read the poem. I really couldn’t…

    • I couldn’t read it again, either. The day my friend posted it on my FB page I totally lost it. Today, forget about it. I’m already a mess.
      It is amazing, though.

  10. Sue, I am very sorry for your loss. I know the feeling. When my dogs – Shannon and Kerry – passed away, I was heartbroken. Cherish the memories, and hold them close to your heart.

    • Thanks, Kevin. You’re so right. That’s all we can do while they’re with us. My other dog, Cascius, is hanging close today. I think he’s grieving too.

  11. Oh, Sue, I’m so sorry. It takes courage to be there with him. You gave him such peace, holding him and loving him until the end. My thoughts are with you.

  12. That is so sad. I’m not a poetry guy, but that was moving. Take care, I’ve been through it a few times, and it gets better with time.

  13. The poem, and your grief, make me cry, too. It’s so hard to say goodbye, but there comes a time when it’s the right thing to do. Nothing I can say will ease the pain, but just know I’m holding you in my heart!

    • You’re right. He told us Sat. night AFTER the vet closed. So, unfortunately, he had to suffer through the last day or so. He was ready today. I think he was relieved. Thanks, Marcia.

  14. My heart aches for you, Sue. You did the right thing; you did what was best. But I know from experience how much it hurts even so. Wishing you peace and healing…

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