Lucky was his name. A chocolate lab... we're guessing about 14 years old, having had him the last 11 years or so. Big (112 pounds at one point), friendly, and other than a sworn oath against any squirrel that made the mistake of getting too close, not a mean bone or unruly bark in him.
The last year or so, he slowed way down, quit chasing the squirrels, got a little crotchety defending his food bowl against the two puppies that invaded his kitchen. He was walking pretty poorly the last month or so, and he even had to survive the embarrassment of having to be picked up and out of the pool. His days of short runs or slow walks were long past. Just getting up or walking out to the back yard was getting to be a struggle.
The last car ride to the vet was quiet, sad. They had troubles finding a vein, but he was patient as he always was with kids... as if he had accepted what was happening. It seemed to take forever, then it happened all in a minute, as he slumped over and took in one last breath.
I lost a good friend today. Hopefully there are lots of squirrels in heaven.
The last year or so, he slowed way down, quit chasing the squirrels, got a little crotchety defending his food bowl against the two puppies that invaded his kitchen. He was walking pretty poorly the last month or so, and he even had to survive the embarrassment of having to be picked up and out of the pool. His days of short runs or slow walks were long past. Just getting up or walking out to the back yard was getting to be a struggle.
The last car ride to the vet was quiet, sad. They had troubles finding a vein, but he was patient as he always was with kids... as if he had accepted what was happening. It seemed to take forever, then it happened all in a minute, as he slumped over and took in one last breath.
I lost a good friend today. Hopefully there are lots of squirrels in heaven.