My Wonderful Therapy Dog
I feel and share the pain other people on this site are experiencing. Six days ago, I had to say goodbye to my wonderful labrador retriever. He would have been 11 next month, and I got him when he was 2. Our time together was way to short.
Russell was my best friend, therapist, confidante, exercise buddy, and volunteer companion. He was a certified Therapy Dog, and he was loved by residents and staff alike at the seniors' home we had visited almost every Saturday morning for the past 6 and a half years.
Staff members have come by, crying, to tell me how badly everyone feels.
But we all know that it was time. Russell was diagnosed with a mast cell tumor in early July. Surgery would have drastically altered his face, and there was a large chance it would come back after the chemotherapy.
Until the last 10 days, I hadn't seen a great change in Russell, other than he was more tired. Then things began happening rapidly. Six days ago, he looked me in the eyes, and if ever there was a plea to let him get away from the horrible itching and discomfort he was experiencing, it was in that look.
I am alone. After a special breakfast, we drove to the vet's office. We went into the room, where a home made quilt was folded on the floor. I knelt down. Russell - all 102 lbs of him, sat on my lap. I hugged him, stroked him and never left his side, until Russell had left me. I am devastated.