Five weeks ago, sweet Gus, our almost-16-year-old golden retriever was diagnosed with bone cancer. It is spreading to other parts of his body. He cannot use his back hind leg and is in pain. He has lost 15% of his body weight in a month.
Tomorrow, Cowboy and I will make that woeful trip to the vet for the inevitable.
In his younger days, Gus used to run next to my mountain bike, trail run and backcountry hike - he once chased a black bear away from our camp.
He kissed plenty of tears from my face. After break-ups in my single days. And BFNs and miscarriages during my married ones.
He is in our wedding picture. The one we have on our wall.
He loves snow. And swimming. And bread. Not necessarily in that order.
I cannot decide which is sadder: seeing him hobble around in pain or not having him around.