(no subject)
Around 12:30 this morning, we lost a certain Yello dog.
Mr Yello (aka Aki, aka Akhenaten) was very nearly 12 years old, and had lost most of his sight and some of his hearing but none of his Yelloness. Last Wednesday we noticed he was not feeling well, and when he was still sad on Friday we took him to the vet. Alas, he had cancer. We bought him some time with steroids and hoped to give him two happy months or so, but it was not to be. Last night he stopped eating again, and appeared to be experiencing fairly severe internal bleeding. With the diagnosis of cancer looming above him, and only a short time left anyway, it appeared that the kindest option was to euthanize him.
He went fast and painlessly in the arms of two people who love him very much, and he knew to the last that he was a Good Dog. He was Yello to the very end, and we miss him terribly, and I only hope we saved him some suffering.
Tonight we consumed mass amounts of food in his honor (although, in deference to the other diners at Bella Notte, we refrained from eating out of stainless steel bowls on the floor, and from rolling in anything), and tomorrow we will bury him next to my parents' old dog, Miss Agnes.
Here is one of the last photos of Mr Yello, doing his best to guess what arcane ritual will cause the Cute Man to give him an ice cream cone.
(Yes, he eventually got the cone.)
Mr Yello (aka Aki, aka Akhenaten) was very nearly 12 years old, and had lost most of his sight and some of his hearing but none of his Yelloness. Last Wednesday we noticed he was not feeling well, and when he was still sad on Friday we took him to the vet. Alas, he had cancer. We bought him some time with steroids and hoped to give him two happy months or so, but it was not to be. Last night he stopped eating again, and appeared to be experiencing fairly severe internal bleeding. With the diagnosis of cancer looming above him, and only a short time left anyway, it appeared that the kindest option was to euthanize him.
He went fast and painlessly in the arms of two people who love him very much, and he knew to the last that he was a Good Dog. He was Yello to the very end, and we miss him terribly, and I only hope we saved him some suffering.
Tonight we consumed mass amounts of food in his honor (although, in deference to the other diners at Bella Notte, we refrained from eating out of stainless steel bowls on the floor, and from rolling in anything), and tomorrow we will bury him next to my parents' old dog, Miss Agnes.
Here is one of the last photos of Mr Yello, doing his best to guess what arcane ritual will cause the Cute Man to give him an ice cream cone.
(Yes, he eventually got the cone.)