I lost my dear old boy Max on September 22nd, 10 months after dad passed. Max was a German Shepherd and I suppose you always expect their legs or hips to go eventually.A few months before he died, one of Maxs rear legs went, but thankfully after a week or so, everything seemed to be back to normal and he could walk properly again. Then the week before he died he got up to answer a knock at the door,(as he always did) and slipped and didnt want to get up again. The next day I finally got him to go out into the garden (he has always been such a good boy, never messed in the house, even as a puppy) and he wouldnt come back in again, just wanted to go into the summerhouse. We spent the next 4 days and nights in there, he managed to get up once and literally dragged himself up to the top of the garden where he always did his jobs on the gravel-with me trying to make him just go on the grass for once, bless him. Getting him back down to the grass was a lengthier matter and we finally got him back to the summerhouse, and he never got up again. I was hoping against hope that it would be like before and he would get up again, but this time both back legs had gone. On the morning of 22nd September he began to cry and then howl. I rang a vet and realised that I would have to have him put down. But he passed away more peacefully than I could have expected before the vets arrived.(They were 5 minutes away and I am glad he died when he wanted to) He is buried in a favourite spot on the lawn along with his favourite toys and some custard creams, the only thing he would eat in his last couple of days.
Farewell my dear old boy, I miss you x