We are dog people. DH and I have had dogs all our lives.
Chase was our 13 year old golden retriever.
We adopted him as an eight week old puppy when our children were seven and three. He was a very spirited pup and an active dog for nearly all of his adult life. He was a big guy; nearly eighty pounds at his biggest, and he was spry and loving. He was good at chewing and playing tug, caught tennis balls and Frisbees like a pro, and was especially adept at forcing his big head under an unsuspecting hand or arm to demand petting.
For the past six weeks, Chase had been struggling. First he was off his feed, then we started noticing slowness and muscle weakness. The vet became a regular contact. He had lost a significant amount of weight. DH and I prepared his food from scratch for the past month-- rice and boiled chicken, ground beef and pasta, anything to get him to eat. He seemed to rally just a bit, but only for a week or so.
This past weekend FBC was home for fall break, and Chase seemed to grow worse daily. He stopped eating anything significant on Friday.
FBC stuck close by him, trying to feed him by hand, and resting on the floor next to him, petting him and even praying with him. It was a beautiful laying on of hands.
By Sunday, Chase needed help up and down the stairs. On Monday, he had some trouble walking back to the house after a short walk outside. Yesterday morning, he could not support his own weight. Tearfully, FBC and I had to leave in order to take her back to Ohio to college. DH and our good friend took Chase to the vet for his last visit. Now we are mourning the loss of a family member, smelly and sweet and so, so loving.
We miss him so much. He was such a good dog.
This is not Chase, but someone who looks a lot like him.