He could hardly walk. A lifetime of well managed arthritis had finally caught up with him. He was here for euthanasia. Dad could not stay.
Erika and I sedated him so it would not be scary. I doubt it would have been scary though. As always, he was so happy to be here and see all of his friends. As always, he asked what we had to eat. We gave him our cookies. We gave him our treats. Mischievously, he eyeballed the syringe that had held the sedative we had just given him.
Erika and I looked at each other, shrugged, removed the needle and handed it to him. He ate the whole thing. Erika and I giggled and then stopped, remembering that this was a somber occasion.
He looked at his catheter, seeming to not believe his luck. I unwrapped the Vet Wrap from his catheter and let him eat that too.
The packaging the catheter had come in? Sure? He looked around. More treats? We laughed and cried in turns as we looked for things he could eat - food and forbidden, safe and dangerous. He laughed and looked with us. We did this until he gently fell fast asleep between us. He had eaten everything in sight and was completely content.
When he was gone, we looked at each other through tears, not sure if it was okay to smile. We saw he had not eaten quite everything in sight. Underneath a front leg was a small part of the syringe. I pocketed the syringe fragment, and we smiled.
