As I sat outside that room, I tried not to perform a mental play by play of what was actually happening behind that door.
Even though I knew exactly what was happening, I didn't know the precise moment it would occur and I preferred to keep it that way.
Moments later, my husband appeared from behind that door and said "he's gone".
We locked eyes and the tears just began to flow. We embraced each other tightly in the middle of that veterinary office not caring what anyone else thought, just wanting to comfort one another.
When we were finally able to speak we couldn't bring ourselves to leave.
Although we knew going in that this particular veterinary appointment would be his last, leaving without our beloved friend was still hard.
Suprising both myself and my husband I made a decision at that moment to see him.
As I walked in to the room and saw him lying there I was shocked at how much he looked like he was sleeping. I wasn't horrified like I originally thought I might be. I was heartbroken but also admittedly relieved. He was finally at peace.
We said our final goodbyes and walked out of the office minus our beloved pet.
If felt odd and sad and unfair and I wanted so much to be someone else at that moment. Someone that didn't just lose their pet of nine years.
That day will probably be one of the hardest I will endure, but I weathered it. I am weathering it.
I'm simply trying to take comfort in the fact that our dog is no longer in pain and that it was the right thing to do.