Waking on that awful morning was not what I wanted to do. The daylight came through the window, and I knew this was the day scheduled for our poor old dog to go to the vet one last time. Sunny was a 16 year old Brittany. She had been a hunting dog, a house pet and my best friend. We gave her treats all the time and filled her Christmas stockings for dogs during the holiday. A dog had never had finer manners. Now with her system shutting down, vomiting and unable to eat, it was time to do what we had put off for weeks. I took a couple of hours that morning to tell her how we loved her. We lay on the floor, and just ran a brush through her red and white hair, watching her laboring to breathe. I knew it was time to go. The procedure was quick. We had a funeral. Many tears were shed. I was sad for months. The thing I think of all these years later is with all the sadness, with all the grief, I would do it again. When you love a dog, you have to know you will more than likely lose the dog in your lifetime. It is sad. It is awful. It is worth it. I will do it again. Sunny would want me to!
