One of my Saturday morning indulgences is to read Lagniappe's Lair, written by a West Virginian on a variety of topics, often including the shooting sports, and classic Western movie clips on Saturdays, but mostly about the exploits of Lagniappe, a beautiful retired German Shepherd police dog with a colorful personality.
Of late, the posts have told how Lagniappe had begun losing neuro-motor control in his back legs to canine degenerative myelopathy, a progressive disease. Still, his character showed through, even as his mobility impairment advanced.
This morning, I read, through tears, that the disease had advanced to an untenable state, and that yesterday his owner/friend, after sharing a long evening of conversation and treats, and a delicious last breakfast, took his beloved friend for an extended car ride and a final trip to the vet.
Four years ago this week, my wife and I took turns staying up with our Chow/Spitz mix, Sara. As I had to work the next day, my wife probably shouldered more of the overnight duty than I. On a crisp November morning, Monday before Thanksgiving, I drove through drops the windshield wipers could not clear away, to the veterinarian's office, to give rest to a dear family friend who in her fifteen years had greeted the births of all three of our children, and had stood watch to alert of any uninvited guests when I was away on business.
Rest in peace, Lagniappe. With gratitude to all of our canine friends who have enriched and blessed our lives.
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