A Bittersweet Catch up.

We lost Skally, our Queen, on January 23, 2015.

it was difficult, especially as the remaining three attempted to forge their right as Alpha.  Well, Rusty won out.

During the past 6 months, we've walked, played, and had a pretty laid back existence.  It took some time to adjust, as Skally used to be the one who would, after dinner, begin to hit me to play.  These guys are nothing like that - they aren't instigators, but Rusty soon became one.

We trotted about the neighborhood and went on jaunts to the beach.  Rusty didn't fare well, there.  His hip/leg was becoming more arthritic and he was completely lost.  There was a time when I began to look for signs of dementia - but it was pain.

Simon's leg had been x-rayed and we discovered he had no ligaments or tendons surrounding his knee, which meant either surgery, a brace or both.   We went with the brace.   If I had to try to keep him down for 8 weeks of recovery, I'd lose my mind, as would he!

Samson has mellowed.  Since Rusty took over Sammy is cautious.  This is concerning, but they tend to get along pretty well.

Now, on to Rusty.

If you look back on this blog, when it first began, you'll get his story, and this will help you understand what I'm about to say.

Tomorrow, 6/30/2015, may be Rusty's day of departure from our world.

No, he hasn't cancer or any disease that is bringing him down.

Because of his inactivity for his first 8-9 years, his left leg has always been stiff.  He still managed to leap over logs at the beach, run with the other dogs, and walk long distances with joy and laughter.  And yet, at this juncture, the pain from that leg has become unmanageable.  We've done as much as possible, but if he rests he's good for a block walk, then he becomes agitated and rife with pain.

His quality of life is not good.  He sleeps most of the time, now, and we allow him to walk about when he cares to - but he does slip and collapse where he remains until he feels he can get up.  

He's been attacking Samson and Simon for no apparent reason, and he's been snapping at me and others for simply petting him.

He's in too much pain.  I hope you understand.  Mentally, I do.  Emotionally I am a wreck.

And so, tomorrow, barring anything that might occur that could change things, we're following the advice of Enzo in "The Art of Racing in the Rain".  It's time.

There is a part of me that accepts this is the best course for him, albeit the ultimate act of kindness; however, I feel, deep down, it's an abandonment of him.

There are no words that convey the love of an animal and his "parent".  There are no words that convey the hopelessness one feels at the time of the act of allowing them to enter that sleep that will bring reincarnation to them.  But life moves on and we deal.

Please keep Rusty in your prayers and thoughts as he had no one until that day I brought him home, all 90 pounds of him, ungroomed, unhappy, confused and unloved.  His life changed in so many ways it seems senseless he wasn't to have more years of happiness to enrich our lives.