Nearly five years ago, we took in a dog someone had thrown away along a highway in western WI. Part Husky, part Shepherd, she came to us via a rescue group, and we named her Kylie. The vet figured she was 7-9 years old, and had a bad leg (ACL). Not long after coming to us, racing around the yard, she tore her other rear ACL and had surgery and had been fine since. She had a great mother instinct, taking good care of kittens we took in, licking them, cuddling up with them.
Older now, she had gotten very deaf, only hear very loud sharp noises, and recently had developed the canine version of dementia. She still knew us, her family, but wandered around, standing in corners, getting tangled up under looms constantly, either restless or sleeping. She was getting meds for both her bad leg and the dementia. About a month ago, she was let out at night, wandered from the yard and was out overnight, lost in the dark. We found her at 7:30 AM the next morning, caught in some dead lower pine tree branches, unable to get out, not far from our home on the county land next to us.
I had boarded both dogs at our local vet’s office for the weekend, because of people/cars coming and going for the Art Tour, and keeping everyone safe. My daughter Sarah, who works at the vet’s office, called at 10 AM to tell me Kylie couldn’t get to her feet, couldn’t stand when helped up, and wasn’t eating, and Dr. wanted to know if it was okay to put her down. It’s the second day of the art tour and I need to be here all day, so I’m feeling very sad. I have known this day was coming for some time now, but feel very bad I’ll never see her again, can’t go in to give her a hug, tell her goodbye, and how happy we were to have her with us these past five years. She was a real sweetheart. I’m so sorry I have to do this Kylie, Goodbye, we love you.