The last day for "Baby" came on October 27, 2005. The alarm went off at 7:00 AM and I went to the side of the bed and petted him. Feeling his cold, hard body all I could utter was "He's left us!" to my wife. Breaking down in tears I could not help but notice the smile on his face as if to say, "Daddy, I don't hurt any more."

"Baby", whose real name was JeanValjean from "Les Miserables" but almost never called that, lived with us for 16 years and 1 month. A long haired doxie, he was in fact our "Baby". We knew the ending was coming, we had been preparing for it for several years, after he was diagnosed with heart disease. But he was strong willed, and like the energizer rabbit, just kept going and going until about a month ago. He had beed deaf for sometime and now his vision was almost gone. He bumped into things and got lost walking around the house which fustrated him no end. His hind legs began to give way and now all he could do was sleep. No more looking out the window, or waiting at the stairs to greet us as we came home from work. But he ate and drank and still showed a spark which unfortunately, fooled me into thinking "I can't put him down! He wants to live." I ignored his falling into his water bowl at times, and as his hacking from his heart disease became worse and thought it was best that we made him as comfortable as possible so that he could pass away at home. I didn't know until after he was gone that this was not the correct thing to do, and I was crushed with the knowledge that I caused my best friend to suffer needlessly. The anguish is almost unbearable still. Twice we had made plans to put him down but couldn't do it as he seemed to come to life just before going to the vets. But the last day, he collapsed in the living room and had a bowel movement while he lay on the floor, which is when I knew it was coming very quickly now, as he always did "his duties" in private. I carried him into the bathroom to clean him up and he vomited his "Snausages." I carried him into the bedroom and laid him down in his favorite spot, knowing the call had to be made in the morning. The call was never made, at least, not the call to put him down. He was known as "Grandpa" at the vets and now we called to say that "Grandpa" was gone. I like to think he did not suffer but I know that not to be true. The last month had to be extremely rough on him, but I was blinded by my belief that every day of life is a bonus. I hope that his residence at Rainbows Bridge he can look down and forgive me for prolonging his life of pain, and blindness, for I knew not what I was doing. We love our "Baby" but sometimes love blinds us to the pain and suffering our loved one is going through and we make bad decisions. This one hurts, it really, really hurts.