Monty
Dogs don’t make up our whole lives
by they make our lives whole.
Monty was such a good dog for my mom. He was her first and only dog that was just hers. Kenny and I helped her find him when she lived in her apartment back in about 2006. He was a huge pain in the butt in my opinion, but a constant, faithful friend for my mom when she needed one.
A few weeks ago it became apparent
that Monty was sick. He slowed way down, wasn’t barking (the boy loved to bark)
and was extremely lethargic. My mom took him back and forth vet, until it was
finally determined that he had an aggressively growing tumor. They could remove
it, hope it wasn’t cancer and hope that is wouldn’t grow back, but the vet
wasn’t very optimistic about the quality of life he could get from the months
or years the operation would buy him… My mom made that very difficult decision to
put him down.
My mom asked that I go with her
and Kenny watch the boys so that Brian could go too. Not so much that we were
going to say goodbye to the dog, but just to be there for our mom. She took him
to the same Animal Hospital
We sat with Monty in the room
while we waiting for the staff to prepare. It was sad. Even my brother cried.
At least he is no longer in pain and can run, and bark all he wants now. I am
sure his barking is already driving my grandma bonkers while he waits for my
mom.
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