A couple of weeks ago, our older dog Miles came in with a limp after running around outside with Penny. We put him on bedrest (no stairs) and waited a couple of days to see if it was just a strain, etc. After all, at 12 years old, he's not a spring chicken, though this fact never seemed to phase him. He still played like a 6 year old. When it didn't get better over the course of a couple of days B took him in to see the vet. The vet on duty (not our regular doc) took an x-ray, didn't see any damage like a break or tear in the cartilage, and sent Miles back home with some remadil and instructions for further rest. Last week B took him back. He was still favoring the leg, and instead of getting better he was not putting any weight on it at all. We saw our regular vet who did a couple new x-rays further up into his shoulder. He found cancer in the bones of his shoulder and confirmed Miles was in a lot of pain.
We got a second opinion last week with the same conclusion: at best, with aggressive treatment (including amputating the leg and radiation therapy) we were only looking at a few good months.
We made the decision to put Miles down. Saturday night he had cheeseburgers for dinner and lots of snuggles. Yesterday morning after I put Bennett down for his morning nap we helped Miles into the car and I took him to our vet. I stayed with him until the end. As I drove home I thought about the day we adopted Miles, and all the good times we shared. We had six good years with him.
Thank you for being a part of our family. We love you. We miss you.