We had to put our German Shepherd down yesterday. Shabah (“ghost” in Arabic) had lost 16 pound over the last few months and had displasia. He could hardly hold himself up. He was walking on the tops of his back feet and often crossed his legs and couldn’t untangle them. Some evenings, I would follow him up the stairs and lift his hips with each step. Yesterday afternoon, while in the kitchen with Rick, he fell and couldn’t get up.
Shabah had a good last day with our young grandson, Logan. Our good old dog managed to get in a few face licks. Logan cuddled up next to him and petted him. Shabah adored children, and all our children and grandchildren have had a soft spot for him as well. When Katie, our daughter-in-law, came by to pick up Logan, Shabah didn’t hear the bell. Nor could he see clearly with cataracts on both eyes.
With trepidation, we took Shabah to the vet for his check-up. Rick had already made up his mind what needed to be done. I thought we might have a few more months. Doctor Stafford gave us an honest evaluation of Shabah’s condition and level of pain. He felt it was time to let him go. We stayed with Shabah, stroking him and talking with him. We thanked him for the twelve good years we had with him. He fell asleep peacefully. Doctor Stafford and his assistant left us alone with a much needed box of Kleenex.