Nellie,
You spoke of your dog...
Back in January of 1995 I took the precepts and "became" a Buddhist, "officially". That next month my landlords cat became very ill. I was taking care of her while her owner was doing the "snow bird" thing in Phoenix, Arizona.
When the cat, Bitzy, became so ill that there was no where else for me to turn, (I had taken her to the vet several times in an attempt to get her "well" without the landlords awareness), I called her owner. When I described the situation, which by that time had progressed into lack of consciousness and seizure-like activity, he told me in a point-blank heartless fashion to have her "put down". I loved that cuddly old cat who would climb into my robe for warmth, and to have her owner from 1500 miles away tell me without concern to "put her down", proved to me to be very sad. I found it very difficult to hide the tears and sobbing while on the phone with him.
Within an hour or so I was on my way to the vets office, a friend driving, me holding Bitzy in my arms, conforting her though I wasn't certain that she was aware of it... when it came time to walk into the little examination room I told the vet's assistant the reason for the return visit... she left and a few minutes later came back in with syringe in hand.
Bitzy did not move when the needle was placed in her little arm... I cried, hard, hot stinging tears as I watched her final movements, her final breath.
As I left the room bawling like a baby I came to some sudden very real, very profound realizations about this thing we call "life".
We are born alone... we die alone... in the moments between those events we are in search of someone... something... to help us feel more real, more alive than our fragile existance can ever provide to us otherwise. It's a very profound realization I experienced as Bitzy died in those few moments... all the while recalling just a couple weeks prior the first Buddhist Precept:
"Do not cause harm to another being."
May we all be well and happy,
Rob
(Panya)