After a long discussion with Nugs neurologist on Friday, the new symptoms Nugget was having were likely due to a buildup of fluid in his brain. There was never an option to wait and see if a seizure would happen, his quality of life already diminished I made the call.

The weekend we had our same routine:

Morning outing in the pet stroller

Playtime at home

Treats

Afternoon car ride to the quiet dog park

Home for dinner

TV time and cuddles

There are no words for the pain that comes with a decision like this, and Nuggie just a baby. To watch him go through the day without much joy, and to know that his life was literally a matter of spending most of it in his bed, occasionally stumbling to the rug, and back to his bed again, for me, that’s not living.

I don’t want to dwell on the negative thoughts of Nuggets life, rather I want to think he’s now able to see, and run, chase a ball, play with friends……

Do all those things that he should have been able to.

Sometimes life just isn’t fair, and you can’t always change things for the better. We tried, we all tried.

Time to run Nuggie, as fast as you can sweetheart. We’ll love and miss you always

The Little Ship

I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, “He is gone”.

But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, “He is gone” a glad shout went up in joyous welcome,

“Here he comes!”