Lucy has been failing for the past month or so — increasing difficulty in jumping onto the bed; several trips to the vet for recurrent diarrhea; loss of appetite to the point where she wasn’t interested in the canned dog food into which we mixed her four medications, two for pain, one for incontinence, and one for the aforementioned diarrhea; and general listlessness. Sadly, it was time.
The day she came to us in 2003.
She was light brown with a white underside on her tail. When she ran, she looked like a deer. Hence, the hand-knit orange sweater.
“Running is fun, especially after escaping through an open car window on a mountaintop in Wyoming!”
“Recaptured. Darn.”
She was always photogenic.
Well, almost always…
She loved the snow.
She was patient with our antics.
“Mmm, sunshine.”
She had the fastest tongue east of the Mississippi. No ice cream dish ever needed to go into the dishwasher when she was through with it.
She considered herself to be a great hunter, notwithstanding that time when the beaver drew blood from her ear or the encounter with the skunk. Or the time she chased the bunny into the brush pile and got herself trapped for 28 hours. Or when she chased the Canada geese off the lake and almost got herself and Smokey killed.
Given a halfway decent throw, she never missed a treat in the air.
Speaking of treats, she was more than willing to help Smokey carve this 17-pound rib eye.
She was always a perfect lady. This was a frequent pose.
“Car ride? I’m so there!”
Younger Son captioned this one, “I know there’s room for both of us!”
Smokey’s computer wallpaper for years.
She was a friend of all our other animals.
R.I.P, Lucy. We will miss you.
Sending you hugs. Rest well, sweet Lucy.
😦 Sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry. Our pets are huge parts of our families and that makes us grateful to have them but terribly sad when they leave us.
Oh, so sorry. My Mink is coming to that stage, and it is so hard.
Oh, hugs. And more hugs.
Sorry for your loss. They give us so much!
Oh, my friend – blessings on you for the depth of your love, which recognizes when The Time has come. She’ll still be there, guarding, you know — I’ll send word for Ra and Othello and Taki to greet her at the far end of the Bridge.
So sorry. I know you’ll all miss her.
I know how it feels to lose a beloved dog/4 pawed son. The photos are wonderful. You have great memories, but I am so sorry for your loss.
😦
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