Saying Goodbye to Morgan

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Last Updated on February 5, 2026 by Shannon

**This post discusses pet loss and end-of-life decisions.**

I have been putting off writing this post for over a month. It’s not an easy topic to write about or talk about, the loss of our beloved pets. They are like family, with us for years, and go through so much with us. But in the end, their lives are so much shorter than ours, and we need to make the decision to let them go. Sometimes that decision is made for us; other times, we must make that decision.

Morgan’s Place in Our Family

Morgan joined our family back on June 5th, 2012. She was just a puppy, born in a foster home through our local shelter. We adopted her the day she was old enough to leave her mom. My kids were almost 4, 8, and 10 years old. Morgan was not our only pet; she joined our first dog, Niko, and our cat, Allie. Morgan never knew a time without other animals in our home.

As the years passed, Morgan shared all our experiences.

She was there when we decided to rehome Niko to a home without children. Niko most likely had a rough start to life and was always water aggressive, but it was getting worse. Even though she was small, I had young children in the home and had fears of them getting bitten if they approached her while she was drinking.

She was there when we moved to a new home, actually decided to mark the home as hers by peeing on the carpet before we had even brought any boxes into the house. I didn’t blame her; it was a stressful time for her, she didn’t understand what was going on.

She was there when we decided to get another dog, a German Shepherd puppy that we named Luna. She did really well with a puppy that was just as big as she was and would continue to grow to 4 times her size.

Health Scares and Resilience

She was there when Covid hit, adding stress by having what looked like a seizure and then dripping blood from her mouth at the vet. She had somehow bitten her tongue, and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. The vet ran some tests, including an ultrasound and found massive bruising when they shaved her for the ultrasound. More tests were ran and she was found to have no platelets. Diagnosed with immune-mediated thrombocytopenia. Dangerous, but treatable.

Days of isolation so Luna wouldn’t accidentally hurt her.
Weeks of meds.
Platelets climbed.
Meds were reduced, and platelets continued to be normal.
Meds were stopped, and she was well again.

She was there when our eldest graduated from high school, also during Covid. She was there when our eldest moved out.

She was there when our middle child graduated from high school a couple of years later. And when he moved out.

Losses, Changes, and New Beginnings

She was there when Allie got sick, diagnosed with pancreatitis. Not a good diagnosis for a 14-year-old cat. She was there when we thought Allie was going to beat the pancreatitis. And when Allie had black poop, a sign of bleeding in the digestive tract. She was there when we made the tough decision to end Allie’s suffering.

She was there when we decided to add two new cats to our home, a mother and son pair, Tsuki and Howl. She did really well with them, gave them space. Tolerated their attention. Refused to lie next to them. Got up every time either one tried to lie next to her. Honestly, it was funny, her refusal to cuddle with them.

She was there when my son had a messy breakup with his pregnant girlfriend and moved back home. She was there for the ensuing mess and difficulties that eventually led to his son, my grandson, also coming to live with us at 3 months old. She did so well with a baby, and as he grew, she continued to do so well with him.

She was there for multiple health scares. Everything is fine now, but she was there when we needed comfort. She was there for so many of life’s changes and challenges.

When Things Started to Change

During this time, she started to cough. Just a random cough that she would never do at the vet. Finally, in January 2024, the vet heard a heart murmur. Between the heart murmur and the cough that had no cause, they ran some tests. She was diagnosed with Mitral Valve Disease and put on two heart meds.

We were given instructions not to exercise her, but that we did not need to prevent her from running or exerting herself, just not encourage it.

She did well for the rest of 2024, but as 2025 went on, she started acting differently.

She slept harder and was harder to wake.
Shaking when she would eat, just the back legs, probably arthritis.
She wouldn’t come running when the treat bag was opened if she were sleeping.
She wouldn’t hear us when she went outside, so we had to start keeping her on a leash, even in our fenced-in back yard, because she wouldn’t come in.
She started sleeping through the doorbell.
Started barking less when people would visit.

The Decision We Knew Was Coming

We started having the talk. Every month, before her medication refill, we would talk.

Is this the month? Is her quality of life still there?

For most of 2025, we said yes; she still had enough quality of life to keep her around longer.

Then December came, and we had company.

She slept through the doorbell. Slept through their coming in the house. When my husband went to find her and wake her, she came upstairs. Looked at our company and jumped on the couch to go back to sleep.

This was so out of character for her. Normally, no one could enter the house without her barking excessively or demanding pets. These people, specifically, always got a bark because they have a dog (and cats) of their own. She wouldn’t stop barking until they said hi to her and gave her a pet.

And that day, nothing.

She looked at them and went back to sleep. Slept the entire time.

The Signs We Couldn’t Ignore

On top of that, she was occasionally pooping in the middle of the night, most likely while still asleep. It took me months to figure it out.

How was poop getting under my bed? None of the animals is small enough to poop in a normal position under the bed. Why wasn’t she whining that she needed to go out? She had a high-pitched whine that usually woke me up. But she wasn’t doing that.

Finally, I was mostly awake when it happened.

A slight whimper.
The smell of poop.
In the dim light from the night light, she looked like she was on her side.
She didn’t get up to poop.
She pooped while sleeping.

It didn’t happen every night, just sometimes. But between that, her odd behaviour (for her) with our company, and all the other things, we finally decided it was time. Time to let her go.

December 15th

And of course, Christmas was coming. I didn’t want to do it too close to Christmas. But waiting til after Christmas didn’t feel right either. So we decided.

December 15th.

Morgan would not be with us for Christmas.

And that was hard.

Knowing we had had our last Christmas with her last year. Knowing that she would not be there when our youngest, who was just about to turn 4 when Morgan joined our family, graduates this spring. She would not be there when he moves into the dorms to start college in the fall.

She was with us for so much.
But she won’t be here for that.

The Final Goodbye

December 15th came, and we took her to the vet. We knew what to expect, did it for Allie. Did it for one of our son’s pet rats (the other 2 died naturally). But knowing what to expect only relieves a little of the stress, anxiety, and pain.

This time, it was just my husband and me. Our youngest wanted to be there, but it didn’t work with his schedule. He couldn’t miss practice for the upcoming musical he was in at school. So, just my husband and me.

The vet staff was very nice, so caring. They explained things even though we’d been through it before.

Our vet clinic has Hershey’s Kisses available for the dogs that are about to go. We tried to give her one, but she kept spitting it out. The first time I’ve ever seen Morgan refuse a treat. The vet tech said some dogs are like that. After years of telling them no chocolate, they will refuse it when it is offered.

Finally, it was time for sedation and the euthanization.

The hardest part was watching her fight the sedation. The thoughts of “did we make the right decision?” And the panic of I don’t want to be here. But I couldn’t let her die alone.

So we stayed.
We comforted her.
We stayed by her.

The vet was so nice, one we’ve had before. Let us sit with her until we were ready to go.

Finally, the most difficult walk of a dog parent’s life, leaving the vet for the final time without them.

The tears in the car on the way home. Thankful I wasn’t driving as I couldn’t see. Still the tears as I write this (I had hoped waiting almost 2 months would make this easier to write, but I was wrong).

Bringing Morgan Home Again

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Then the wait for her ashes to be returned. The decision of what to do with the ashes. This decision was at least easy for us; we would put them next to Allie’s ashes. I bought an urn on Amazon that was similar to the one we got for Allie.

Finally, the call from the vet that her ashes were ready.

I put them in the urn and printed a picture of Morgan to put in the urn. Placed it next to Allie with Morgan’s pawprints next to it. The card from the vet with ink prints of her paws and nose is behind it.

It sits next to my desk, right where I can see it, her and Allie together.

Maybe someday I will be able to return their ashes to the earth.
Today is not that day.

Rest in Peace

Rest in peace, Morgan
April 10, 2012 – December 15, 2025