I had to take little old Ricky, who came to us this past June, to the vet today to be put to sleep. I took this photo of Alayne holding Ricky in happier days. Already ancient when he arrived, stone deaf and with no teeth, we knew Ricky wouldn’t be with us for that long. But the speed with which he deterioriated in the past couple of months was still rather astonishing.
Unfortunately, his mind went first, with what our vet Brenda Culver had called "old dog cognitive dysfunction syndrome," or doggie Alzheimer’s. Then his body began shutting down, and it became impossible to keep weight on him as his kidneys began failing. Ricky’s tiny frame got thinner and thinner.
Finally, this week we realized the time had come to let him go. He was "existing" but not living, not enjoying life any longer. This little guy, who we had called a "kissin’ fool" because he always liked to lick us whenever we picked him up, no longer even did that in the past week. Indeed, today as I picked him up off the back seat of the truck to carry him into the clinic, I held him next to my face to see if I could get one last kiss … but it didn’t happen. He didn’t even seem to realize I was there, bless his little heart. A few minutes later he was gone, peacefully.
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