This past Saturday I had to say good-bye to my beloved border collie, Buddy.
I adopted Buddy 12 years ago when he was just a little ball of fluff. I picked him up and he put his paws around my neck, laid his head on my shoulder and immediately fell asleep. I immediately fell in love.
For 12 years he has been my baby, my companion, my cat herder, and my joy. About 2 years ago this Frisbee loving dog was diagnosed with arthritis. He had hip dysplasia and as he aged his hip started to degenerate. He had good days and bad days. At first there were more good days than bad, but the scales started to tip the other way several months ago. The poor guy had been on all sorts of pain relievers and steroids, but in the end there was nothing further that could be done. He had reached the point where there were no more good days. So with a heavy heart we talked to his vet. He agreed with us that the time had come to let go. So, on Saturday morning I said good-bye. I know it was the right thing to do, but sometimes doing the right and responsible thing just sucks.
My sweet Buddy, I know that where you are now there is no more pain. You can chase Frisbees all day long and have salmon for dinner every night. Someday I will be there and I know that you will be waiting for me. Mommy loves you, my sweet pup.