Isaac had his last cheez whiz on toast (he never did like pizza!) and quietly left this world today as he lay in my arms on a carpet on my kitchen floor. His health had been failing and his pain was no longer manageable. Two nights ago he woke me with his cries and he paced most of the night despite heavy doses of drugs. I spoke to Carol, and then the vet, and despite increased meds his experience last night was the same. And so our wonderful vet came to my house between her appointments and gently ended his pain forever.
Isaac, you were the first dog to ever speak its name to me. You were with me such a short time, but quickly became my shadow. You gallantly tried to pace back and forth with me down my narrow hallway, on your wobbly legs, as I chatted on the cordless phone or moved around my small house doing chores. You were such a Velcro dog, and appreciated every kindness, every pat, every scritch behind the ears.
You hated being alone - you were fine if you were with your furbuddy Charley or even with Allie Cat, but my bathroom, mudroom and barn all testify to your desperate need to be near another living being.
Your favourite food was Cheez Whiz on toast, for which you repeatedly bumped my elbow. In fall, you loved to sit on the grass with me just before dusk and watch the leaves quiver in the trees, hoping to spot a squirrel. When your strength allowed, you joined Charley and I on our morning walks up the back pasture. You loved children, especially little boys, and chased Eva's grandson Brandon around and around the old well in the garden, playing like the puppy you once were. And although you fit in so well, I could always tell you longed for something you once had. May you one day greet that little boy from your past at the Rainbow Bridge.
I was honoured to have you share my home, Isaac, and I wish I could have known you longer. Run free, sweet boy, free of pain at last.