Farewell, Fletcher

Today was such a sad day.  I knew it was coming, but I didn't expect it this soon.  Poor Fletcher had to be put to sleep.

His little body just couldn't take it anymore.  His arthritis was getting the better of him.  In the end, I knew it was over when he started refusing food.  Eggs.  Peanut butter.  Canned food with tuna juice.  Nothing was appealing.

I spent over an hour this morning brushing him, and engaging in his favorite activity---DOGGIE MASSAGE!!!  He'd pick his little head up and look at me, then collapse back down.  He couldn't even lick my face, which is a first.

He couldn't keep down the water that he had managed to drink, so I knew it was time for a trip to the vet.

I've never met a sweeter dog.  He was 14 and led a very full life.  Despite his size, he was definitely a lover, and not a fighter.  Just in the past few years, he was attacked twice by pitbulls here in the parking lot, and once outside the vet.  Each time, he never fought back.  He just took the brunt of the attacks and defended his family.

It's been a while since I've cried so much.  I'm going to miss him lying near me while I work each day.  I'll miss his little hops, the best he could manage since he could no longer jump up and down.  I'll miss his little cries every morning, letting everyone know that it's time to wake up.  I'll miss giving him doggie massages, and cleaning up the lumps of black hair that he constantly shed.  I'll miss laughing at him while he was staring at the walls, happy and high on his pain medication.  And don't get me started on his expert ability to scam for treats.

I'll miss you Fletcher.  Thanks for all the good years, and thank you for letting us know that it was time for you to go.  I never wanted to spend my Saturday this way, or any day for that matter, but I'm glad that the vet made you a terrific final cocktail.  You looked so peaceful.

I love you Biggie, and we miss you already!