The little rescue dog that came into our lives 4 years ago.
She ended up in rescue because
one of her hu-parents died, the other dimentia.
The surviving family members didn't want her.
She was nearly blind, from cataracts.
And was losing her hearing.
She slept most days.
We didn't think she would live very long.
She sure had a vivacious appetite.
And loved to go outside and walk in blind circles.
She had been steadily losing weight
which the vet thought was a good thing
because she had congestive heart disease.
But it bothered me.
Last week she stopped eating all together.
I think she still wanted to, she just couldn't.
I thought she would die at home on her own.
But today was to much.
She was suffering, I don't even think she was
even inside her brain anymore.
She was moaning and chewing on her tongue.
Ted came home from work early
and dug her grave and etched "Jo"
on a big rock that will soon sit on top of the ground.
I wrapped her in her favorite green blanket
and said goodbye.
With many tears between myself and Ted
he left for the vet appt.
Thats where he is now.
I just couldn't go. :-(
He will be back soon with her in the box.
We have gone through this before,
and will go through this many times again.
It's a part of life and I hate it.
I really hate it. :-(