Our last walk

Tuesday was a beautiful spring day but it was a rough day. Emmylou's pain wasn't being controlled anymore. She hurt when rising and walking appeared to be difficult. She had a sway and a weakness that we hadn't seen before. She could still climb the stairs, slowly, but going down was difficult unless I held her collar and steadied her. She was uncomfortable much of the day even as I increased the pain meds and gave her something new. But in the late afternoon we went to the dogpark to see her friends and she wagged her tail and gave everyone a smile and a kiss.

I really didn't plan to do a walk, she seemed too unsteady on her feet. But when we left the dogpark she headed down the trail instead of going back to the van. I was obviously going to do anything she wanted, and I expect she knew it.

We hadn't gone very far when we heard something moving through the woods, probably a deer but I couldn't see it. Her ears perked up and she got some of the old bounce back in her step, even pulling me down the trail a bit in the direction of the sound.

We didn't go far but I'm glad we went.

Clay had to hit two drug stores on his way home to get a prescription filled, but the muscle relaxers gave her some comfort last night and she seemed to sleep well. I brought the guest room mattress into the office so I could stay with her last night, but she occupied the center of it, and the pillow, so I went back to my own bed as not to disturb her. She slept near Molly, who seemed to know what is going on.

Today I made the call and the trip to the vet for that last act of kindness because it was clear that her quality of life would not recover. I held her head and kissed her as the vet took away her pain.

Those eyes of hers could look right through me and read me like a book. She spoke with her voice, her eyes, and her entire body, reserving her greatest excitement for the hunt and her happiest expressions for people. She greeted everyone like a long lost friend, but she was most vocal when Clay would come home from work, telling him about everything that he had missed during the day.

She got dealt a few bad hands in life, but she sure never held it against us. We were the lucky beneficiaries of other people's ignorance and misfortune. I can not express what she meant to me. She was tall, slender, grey, and beautiful, and she was a steadfast friend.