We had to take our little Luther today to have general anesthesia but the one where they don't wake you up.
He was old and sick and was not a happy little dog anymore and it was the only thing to do.
Heart failure, seizures, spinal issues, partial paralysis, pain and just plain misery is not a life for a good little doggie.
He was a rescue, but not by me. He was adopted by my co-worker's sister, who decided that she really didn't want a dog when he was almost two.
We had lost a different dog about six months earlier so the timing was good and I took him sight unseen.
He was a fine little pup. Stupid as a box of rocks, but that made him the perfect housedog for people with a thousand square feet to live in and no personal yard. Our compound has great dog areas for walking but we have only a deck for ourselves.
Anyway, chihuahuas don't really want to go out all that much, so there we were, just the three of us, snug in our dinky condo.
He had a good life and an easy passing.
We'll see you again someday, Luther, I'm quite sure of it.
💕