My Moe

This is the hazard of giving your heart to a furry friend; they can't stay as long as you'd like. Last night Gizmo began breathing very heavily, and although he didn't look to be in pain he wasn't comfortable or himself. We have a wonderful vet who is also a member of our church. He gave us his cell number at the beginning of this illness, and we called him. We though we might need something else to give Moe to make him rest easier, but we also knew it might be the end. Dr. Knupple met us at the clinic and checked out Gizmo. His poor little heart was going crazy, but he wasn't whining or complaining. The doc said the only way to keep him comfortable was to completely sedate him, and he advised us to go ahead and give him to God. He gave Moe a sedative and left to let us hold him for as long as we wanted. I sat cross-legged on the floor and held him his favorite way. He feel asleep in my arms, snoring. He was completely comfortable, and we were all with him. We hugged and kissed him and told him how much we loved him, but he already knew. I still held him as the vet game him a little shot in his leg, and after a little while he stopped snoring. I cleaned his wrinkles and kissed and cuddled him. Then we handed him to the vet and went home. We're going to keep his ashes, harness, favorite toys and bones in our room to be close to us, because that's all he ever wanted: to be right there beside me. I won't hear the pitter-patter of little Moe feet anymore, but he'll always be right beside me.