The end

Today was Sam's last day. Although the Tramadol bought him a few good weeks, he was no longer getting good pain control even on double doses, so I chose to end his life this morning.

There's no good time to make this sort of decision. Sam seemed to enjoy cuddling with both Tim and I last night, but he'd gone from being eager to go for a walk to being willing only to walk a house or a two down the street, limping badly and panting on the return trip. We could have waited longer (days? weeks? a month?), and he would have had some more good times, but it seemed like the bad times were starting to dominate, and it seemed selfish to keep him alive but in pain while we tried to atone for some of the "demotion to dog" that all of our dogs have experienced over the past couple years.

So Tim took Dalton out for a tour of the coffee shop, mall, and pet store, while I made Sam (and TY) scrambled eggs (a favorite) for breakfast, and then took him for his last trip to the vet.

We scattered Modi's ashes in the back yard last week. I expect we'll do the same for Sammy.

I told Dalton last night that Sammy's leg was hurt (which he knew) and that Sammy was going to die. D hasn't asked about Sam at all today. I'm not sure if he hasn't noticed (possible, Sam never came upstairs), or if we're all just avoiding the subject.

It occurs to me as I type this that I haven't said much about Sam's life. That'll have to be the subject of a later post.