Every single day, I have The Talk about end of life with people. We talk about disease, we talk about pain, we talk about faith, we talk about dying and we talk about funeral options. We also discuss the aftermath. I tell people who are worried about when death will happen, that there are signs that it is approaching. Today, I had the talk with myself about Duke. It's time, and my heart is broken.
Last night, I came home and got a look from him that something was terribly wrong. His ears were about as far back as they could be, almost pinned against his head. He got up with huge effort and came to me, but instead of begging for some of my syrian bread, he just looked at me-imploring me to do something. This morning, he's so much worse that he can hardly bear his own weight, and when he walks, his gait is shuffling. My great big dog is dying. It's time. I've known for awhile that this day was coming, but gosh, I'm overwhelmed with grief. One day, because I can't do it now, I'll tell you how much I owe this beautiful creature.