We had to put Pax to sleep last night. My wife could not witness it. He was a great dog–fourteen years old. This did not make it any easier. He had a full life as a big dog. With much difficulty we got him into my car. I had to wait in the waiting room about fifteen minutes. Pax was in such bad pain. He could hardly move. He had two ripped knees and just got worse with his medication. He would not stop panting. I talked to him softly, stroked him lightly while we were waiting.

Finally we got into the room and he lay on the stainless steel. I did not stop stroking him lightly and talking to him. He lay there and I kept softly stroking him on ___ and talking softly to him. It was his last few minutes. The vet explained to me what was going to happen, shaved one of his legs and gave him his injection. I talked to him softly and lightly patted him as he went from one realm into another.

I burst into tears uncontrollably when he became still. I knew him for twelve of his fourteen years. He had such dignity. In the end no matter how difficult it was for him to exit into our yard and navigate the steps, he still went out into the yard to pee.

We did this for him not us. Now he can run freely, with no pain. Maybe, one time we will meet in heaven. He was a great dog. I loved him but I had to let him go. He is now in a better place.