With the decision made Doggo typically decides to rally, starts walking a bit better, has breakfast and then curls up in the hall waiting for us to go to work.
Instead Daughter comes over to join us and we all head to the vets where having expected to have to carry the old man, he walks in and starts charming the vet. Everyone is in floods of tears and typically Doggo prolongs the agony by not going easy as they struggle to find a vein in his old body. He is easily the calmest one there, I think he knows its time to go.
There’s plenty to reflect on concerning life with possibly the most travelled dog in Britain. From the Isle Of Wight to the Hebrides, from the Lakeland Fells to the Scottish Ski resorts he was there with us on all our trips.
He was a constant presence in our lives for all of his sixteen and a half years. He was our running partner and although he never got to parkrun, he was a parkrun veteran and attended loads. Sadly his last one, on Saturday, ended up with him being carried away from it.
Then there’s his Agility, which we learnt together and muddled our way through to Crufts on two occasions. Happy days.
We almost thought he could go on for ever and he was still enjoying his walks with me last week. We were also so glad that it snowed for him in his final week, he always loved the snow.
“If at some point we all succumb, for goodness sake, let us be young. 'Cause time gets harder to outrun, and I'm nobody, I'm not done. With a cool, cool breeze and dirty knees, I rest on childhood memories. We all got old at breakneck speed, slow it down, go easy on me.”
Sadly, my friend, we’re done. RIP
(Monday 5th March)