This morning the vet came.
My best friend's senior dog was in his fifteenth year, as wonderful an old gentleman as you could find, but it upset him to have 'accidents' and his back legs weren't what they used to be. He'd get confused, and he could not longer do all the things dogs love doing. My friend made the decision last week.
So my dog and I went to be with them, and the junior dog, and the cat. They're family.
Senior dog had been out for a stroll in the orchard, and he looked so shiny as he'd had a groom. We sat and chatted, and senior dog dreamed and slept, with his friends around him.
The vet had known him all his life. I took the two dogs into the sitting room, where we all sat on the floor together in a hug. The cat stayed, sitting on the bed where they all slept together. My friend held her dear dog as he drifted into his final sleep.
His friends could see he was at peace now, and they knew. After he'd gone, they didn't want treats, they just wanted to be quiet and remember him, and they knew we needed them too.
Now I've had a little weep, but it was so peaceful, natural and dignified.
Sweet dreams our old friend, thank you for being you and for giving us so much.
