"In peace time, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons" - unknown
My baby fought his war valiantly. He fought until he could literally not stand to fight anymore. Fighting until his body gave out.
I've been dreading this moment, knowing that the individual battles may be won, or tied, but the outcome of the war is predetermined. Knowing that I don't have the strength for this.
He told me. As his doctors, and our friends told me he would. When it was time, when he knew he could no longer beat back the cancer ravaging his organs. He would tell me.
Had he a human voice, I'd imagine it would go something like this.
Dad, its time.
I've been in so much pain. I can't stand it anymore. You have to let me go.
I told you I would tell you when. So you wouldn't need to make a terrible choice. I'll be strong enough for both of us. My war is lost. I have fought as hard as I can.
But I'm done. I can't keep on going.
You have to let me go. Please Dad ... please ...
I won't hurt anymore.
Please Dad, its time ...
Rest in peace my canine son Captain. 2010-2022