It was a beautiful weekend at the lake, bright sun, not too hot, perfect.
We were helping Sam a lot, bringing her water and food, helping her outside with a beach towel looped under her belly and us holding up the ends so she could get out those two steps to the yard.
None of us expected it to deteriorate this fast in 72 hours. Friday night we headed to the lake like usual.
On Sunday night I left a message for the vet to come asap, and he did Monday at suppertime, came to our house, same as he did when our old dog Spooner had reached the end.
Terry knelt down next to the pile of blankets, and very quietly and gently didn't even wake Sam up, just facilitated peaceful exit.
I zipped her up in a silky sleeping bag and Terry and Big and Little Jay took the ends and helped carry her body to the truck so we could head to the lake for her burial.
Tubing pictures:
Behind the pontoon boat, they don't get up enough speed to swing out beyond the wake. It was a little boring, but better than nothing, true.
The little girl p.j. got bored enough to try some actual stunts.
A day later, a crew of brothers assisted and our sweet Sam was buried in the field.
Who could have even imagined?
love, Val
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