Gorgeous roses grace my counter, a sweet touch of beauty, during a time of anguish. . My dog is losing strength. This morning he greeted me like a drunken soldier, wobbling, down the hall. I poured a cool bath, then gently immersed him, dried and placed him on comfy pillows, at the foot of my bed, in front of the fan. I stroked him until he dosed off.
Yesterday I sat on the patio, dog at my feet. Exuding from my daughter’s bedroom window echoed the words “I’m not afraid to die” as the Johnny Cash song “Mercy Seat” played. I’m resigned to the fact it won’t be long now. I won’t let him suffer. Unlike my other dogs at this stage, he is still eating well. Although I wished he would drink more in this hot weather. His breathing is labored and another lump has appeared on his head and seems to be growing rapidly. It’s horrific watching the demise of a best friend, human or canine.
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