Ottoman-shaped dog had a difficult day yesterday, followed by a very rough night last night. This morning, it was clear that because of the bladder tumor, he had developed a blockage. He couldn't urinate.
These past few months since his diagnosis, we have been watching him, waiting for signs, worrying about the progression of his illness and about his comfort. He would have a bad day, and we would think, "Now?" And then he would bounce back, so it was clear that it was not Now.
It was clear, though, that today was Now.
You are at rest now, Thorbert, with no more pills or needles. No more anxiety, no more fears. I hope that somewhere, somehow, you are now free to have all the snackies you would like, to pee happily on every bush you pass, to sniff and run bark and lie on cushions and be joyful once more.
Godspeed, Thorbert. You were the very best dog I could ever have -- unrelentingly cheerful, devoted, and loving. You would rest by my side when I was sick, be silently and comfortingly present when I was sad, and wait patiently by the front door for my return whenever I left the house. You were unconditional love wrapped in an ottoman-shaped dog body. Thank you for your time with us.
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Tears for Thorbert. He is running and playing with my Timber.
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