Ready for Fall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I got up to check Olivia in the night, I could see the outline of him on the dining room floor. Like an arrow, pointed out the door. I listened for a minute to his panting, gripped with both grief and relief. He's not comfortable and the vet said he will never be comfortable again. I said that I wanted to bring him home for the night and would bring him back the next day. "I'll stay with him, if that's okay."

He rested easily through the day, but couldn't really move around and had to be helped to the porch when we took him out into our yard one last time. Forgetting, I called him out of the car at the vet's and he tried to comply, but fell on the parking lot. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

They took him away to put a catheter in his vein and brought him back with a shaved place on his front paw. I remembered him as a puppy with a spot just like that after the vet pumped his stomach the one and only time that he ate things he shouldn't have.

They laid him on the table with a blanket underneath. I knew that it was in case he used the bathroom, but I appreciated that it looked more comfortable than sterile. As soon as they started the meds, he laid his head between his paws and that was it. Very quick, very peaceful. He was gone.

What can you say about a dog? He was loyal, he was sweet. Most dogs I have known were, but this one was special. He was my good and true companion.

Tucker Moose Grits