Thursday the 25th was not a good day at the Pyg's house. First I wake up to my favorite shadow of 12 years (Kobau) wheezing oddly, then I look over at my computer and it has totally crashed and I've lost everything on it. Go to work. My wife fly's in from Vancouver in p.m. (the only good thing that happened, as anyone around here knows, the airport at Castlegar, is more aptly called Cancelgar), to find the dog in more distress. She makes an appointment with the vet and we take him up as soon as I get home from work. She says he might have an enlarged heart and fluid in his lungs (hence the wheezing), but with some medicine, he would prolly make another year or so, but we could get a x-ray to be certain. O.K. do that and will come back in an hour or so for the results. Go back to find out his lungs are full of cancerous tumours and she can't believe he's still breathing and he prolly now only has days to live! Holy Fuck, how can this be, he was fine until this morning! Take my poor old pal home, don't hardly sleep Thurs day night, have to go to work Fri (relief driver is already working, so no cover), give my bud a couple of last big hugs and pets. Wife calls on cell at 8 a.m. and says he's now coughing up blood, she can't take seeing him suffer anymore and that she had made an appointment for 9 a.m. to put him down. To top things off Saturday was my wife's birthday....nice present!
I do think my dog knew he was dying and hung on long enough for my wife to get back from Van., to say goodbye and then decided to go before her actual birthday.
I've owned countless cats and never felt this way when I lost one of them. I never thought I'd be so bummed out about a pet but, I'm pretty much devastated right now and don't know if I'll ever be able to replace him. I keep hearing him tap, tap, tap at the back door to come in. There is a big void in my house.
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