A Dog's Last Day
It was November 2006 and I was standing in the treatment area of the clinic writing my records at the end of the day. I looked up when a staff member walked through with an absolutely adorable little white puppy.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"He is a stray that someone just dropped off. He is going to the shelter tomorrow morning."
"No he's not. He is going home with me."
And that is how I got Viggo (named from Ghostbusters 2) my first dog ever, and it's been quite an adventure! Through the years he has helped me raise a litter of dachshund puppies, has been a friend to other dogs and cats that have come and gone from our house, donated a lot of blood to my patients, gone hiking and camping, gotten skunked and porcupine quilled, welcomed my two children when they were born, and begged for pizza crust like a champ.
But at almost 14, he was tired. His legs didn't work as well, I was afraid one of these days he wouldn't make it up or down the stairs and would maybe lie there until I came home. His appetite was sketchy. He did almost nothing but sleep. I decided it was time.
I helped him cross the Rainbow Bridge in a lovely home euthanasia. I wanted to share a bit of his life and his last day, as a tribute to a great dog and to show how much love and peace can be present even in a day so full of emotions.