We’re not having the best of days here at Castle Frostbite. One of Raven’s pups (the girl) turned out to have a cleft palate, and despite our efforts, she couldn’t get any food down. With a cleft palate, puppies can’t get the proper suction going to suck on the mother’s nipples, and hand-feeding often results in the puppy aspirating food because it goes from the oral cavity into the nasal cavity and thus back into the airway.
We were unwilling to wait for her inevitable and crummy death via either aspiration pneumonia or starvation, so we took her to the vet a little while ago to give her a quick and pain-free passing.
It’s always hard to lose a pet, even if you’ve only had them around for a day or two. When you lose a dog you’ve had for ten or fifteen years, that’s sad and awful, but it’s a whole different thing to lose a pup. They’re so small and fragile, and when you have to let them go, all their potential goes with them–everything they could have been, and all the love you would have bestowed on them over the years: the stuffed animals not mauled, the balls not fetched, and the trashcans not raided.
Sometimes, the knowledge that you did the right thing doesn’t make it any easier. But that’s the nature of the thing when you choose to own pets. You trade the time you have with them for the heartbreak when they have to leave. And sometimes, that time is very short indeed.
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