What a beautiful soul. Max was 140 pounds of purebred German Shepherd with such a gentle heart. He was a lover, not a fighter!
He was nine years old and one of his rear legs stopped working. The vet said wait and see because most of the causes were terminal. The next day his other hind leg stopped working. A neighbor had to help me lift him into my car on a litter borrowed from the vet. After a few x-rays, the vet told me that there was a mass growing in his abdomen that looked like it was pinching the nerves to his legs (sort of like carpel tunnel in the wrist). He could operate on Max but his condition was probably terminal and Max would be more of an invalid that a happy dog.
Max and I waited five hours in the radiology room at the vet for my son to get there (it was actually "his" dog). They gave my son an additional 90 minutes sitting on the floor with Max to say goodbye to the pup. Max was using my son's thigh as a pillow when the drugs entered his system. The ending was peaceful for Max but DAMN I hated to say goodbye!
Sorry to vent. I guess I have to change my profile info and my signature now. :-(
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