Heavy hearted long weekend

I write this entry with a throbbing and heavy heart. This weekend had been a long one for me. Literally.

While my friends are happily partying away the whole weekend, I had to struggle with working on shipments that had gone very very wrong. The challenge was also upped when it came to trying to contact people. Two schoolds... There were the uncontactables. and the refusing to respond. There was also the odd one who rang to inform of another shipment issue which had no case for claims but insisted on asking as the SOP/Modus Operandi 'required'. Then of course there was the system/server maintenance and breakdown that didn't allow log-ons, even from remote. So basically, everything seemed bloody screwed-up. And, whilst all that was going on, my mind had been very occupied with the well-being of my beloved pooch.

Pepsi, my mini-schnauzer of 14 years, had been very sick for quite some time now. Daddy had previously mentioned that if he has to go to a vet anymore, he's not allowed to be warded. Reason being, we've been told by the vet that Pepsi is very old. If he needs to be warded for observation of any kind, and were to act up and needs a procedure to be done, given his age, he might not be able to take it. And I personally felt that we didn't want him to go under the knife either, at this age.

But this weekend, daddy rang. Told me to consider euthanasia... Pepsi was suffering bad. He's quite blind, and deaf, suffered a stroke not too long ago, now paralysed on the left. He can't walk by himself, and cries all the time. Mummy & Ron have been taking turns taking care of him. But it's also taking a toll on their health cos they jump up at night whenever Pepsi cries, or bumps into something while struggling to move around.

I felt that it was probably also the best option for everyone to let the poor boy go. I said that to mummy and daddy over the phone. But, after I hung up, I felt very very guilty. I could almost hear Pepsi cry. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed. Was I wrong? After all, I was the one who brought him home 14 years ago, when he was still a teeny weeny little 4 week old pup.

I suddenly panicked. I didn't know what to do cos I felt so guilty of passing the sentence. In a way, there was good intention of ending his and everyone else' suffering. But on the other-hand, it was inhumane to take his life away when he's really struggling hard to stay alive to be with us.

I don't know what I should do. Mummy suggested that I should drop by today to take a last look at the old boy, and perhaps bring him to the vet to get it done. But I didn't have the guts to. Daddy rang again today to say that the boy was quiet, not crying much. I just mumbled an OK. Daddy says will keep me updated. I assumed nothing happened, and went on my chores as usual. But I'm still very heavy-hearted.

Tmr, I have to go to work. I have to look professional, behave professional (as 'requested'), and get thru the very long Tuesday. I will have a guest in town, and will have to swim thru the fishy day packed with meetings as well.

I'm not sure how I might survive the day at all.

Now, flashes of Pepsi in his younger, healthier days occupy my mind... What should I do... ...?