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Originally Posted by FionaMom  Not my first. My first was Nickleby - a male yorkie that I had for 11 years. He was healthy until the last few weeks of his life. I was extremely attached to him.
Not to be morbid, but I'll share his last day. He was really sick - the vet never did figure out what was wrong. I think it was his pancreas. He'd lost a lot of weight and I could tell he was nearing the end so I called the vet in the morning and was going to take him in to be put to sleep at 11am. At around 10am, I had him in the backyard of my dad's house on the grass, in the sunshine and on his favorite blanket when I was with him as he died. My dad had been by my side but when it came close to end, he knew it and told me. He couldn't bear to watch so he went inside the house. After Nickleby died, my dad took me out to a place he thought would be good for a burial. My dad was a cotton farmer and had land in West Texas. He took me to what was left of an old barn that he said he'd seen a family of owls in and he also thought the land had been Indian burial grounds because of the things he'd found there over the years. He dug the grave and I placed my Nickleby there. It was heartbreaking to lose Nickleby but my dad was so sweet and knew exactly how to be there for me. I'll never forget that because I've lost my dad now too. Every day with dogs and people you love is precious. I'll never forget that. |
Oh, that made me cry. Poor, sweet little guy. Must have broken your heart in two. At least the two of you were together when he passed on. Rest in pease, sweet Nickleby, in your special place on your granddad's property with the fascinating provenance.