out of clever titles

[hoosiermama]

I have to share some sad news. I lost my 17-year-old dog Max yesterday. He had been relatively healthy--a "tough old bird" we called him--until a few weeks ago when he began a slow decline. Over the weekend he was worse, and yesterday was unable to stand, ending up lying in his own mess. I think that's how he told me it was over, so we went to the vet and he passed peacefully with the very first anesthetic injection. I think we would have probably lived only another hour or so anyway. D12 and H were both there--she was with him when it became obvious that Max was actively dying. She's devastated, having had Max her whole life. We have 3 others (yes, we're a little crazy) and they're even feeling the difference.

Max was a dog's dog. He was a shepherd mix who was dumped in front of the downtown building where I worked in 1992 during rush hour, and I took him home so he'd be safe until I could find him a good home; the rest, of course, is history. He was never any trouble at all, and was blind and almost deaf at the end--altho those things didn't really seem to bother him too much. He saw and helped foster numerous rescue dogs, and outlived several other pets; he was with me before I got married and even outlived that. I miss his furry presence, but I know that he is now running free, without arthritis to hinder him, seeing, hearing and smelling things as he used to. I knew this day would come, and I am just so thankful to have had him for 16 years.