Today, we took our beautiful 13 year old American Eskimo Dog, Skywalker, for one last ride. Sky, as we called him, has been going steadily downhill for a year and became worst this past weekend. We knew it was time.
Both Cheryl and I were able to spend most of his last day with him. We hugged him, laid on the floor next to him and showed him a lot of love and affection. When it was time to go to the vet, I lead him outside. The sun shone brightly, as Sky walked out onto the patio. He stood there for a moment and looked around with his silly grin on his face. He sniffed the air and then followed me to the car. It looked like he was pausing to take one last look around. It was like he knew he wouldn’t be coming home again.
After I loaded him into the backseat, Cheryl and I got into the car. Cheryl cried the whole way to the vet. Her heart was, and still is, breaking. Sky settled down in the backseat and kept his head up. I took County V to the vet. I wanted his last car ride to be filled with pretty countryside views and not the views of the highway.
At the vet, I filled out the paperwork and paid the bill, before the three of us were lead down the hall to a room. Sky just followed like a little trooper, without us having to even hold his leash. Even to the end, he was an excellent little dog. We were left alone to say goodbye for quite a while. Sky laid on the floor next to Cheryl. When it was time, they didn’t put him on the table — he hated those tables. I sat on the floor in front of him, so his last sight was me. He had been my dog for so long, I didn’t want him seeing anything else. They gave him the two shots and he was gone. His little eyes half closed. His head lying between his paws. He looked so sweet. Cheryl and I were sobbing uncontrollably. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Good night, sweet Skywalker. I know I’ll never have a dog as good as you.