Hot Dogs in Heaven

I've had dogs my entire life, so it's natural that I've experienced my share of good-byes. None of them were easy. But the hardest one so far, has been Reacher. At 11-1/2 years of age he was the longest living and healthiest of my three Boxers buddies. 

His problem started with a limp and eventually resulted in the loss of function of his right rear leg. My crazy Reacher, didn't let that faze him. In short order, he learned to go anywhere he desired as a tripod. He traveled up and down the stairs with ease and even attempted short sprints around the back yard.

His appetite never wavered. That boy was always ready to eat and continued to give me the stink eye as he had done every day during his nearly a dozen years, to let me know meal time was fast approaching. He was drinking water like always and the rest of his bodily functions continued to operate as usual. All except of course, that right rear leg.

At his age, the vet and I agreed not to do a deep dive into his issue which was likely a torn ACL or possibly something more nefarious. In either case, the goal was to keep him as comfortable as possible. So, that's what we did. 

After several weeks, it was clear Reacher was feeling the pain and on a Sunday evening I even noticed some swelling high on his leg near the hip. I knew it was time for a decision. On Monday, the swelling was moving down the leg and I called a vet I know who provides euthanasia services in clients' homes. She came on Tuesday. 

At that point, even Reacher's foot was swollen and getting around wasn't as smooth as it had been. The vet told me, the useless leg accompanied by the sweeling was likely a result of bone cancer. And the only treatment was amputation. Which wasn't an option for my "senior" boy.

So, we sent Reacher on his way to the Rainbow Bridge as I fed him chunks of hot dog, one right after the other. He looked at me with those big brown eyes and gave me one last Boxer smile. It was clear, he was in heaven.