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 swelling 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.