Losing a pet is difficult, making the decision to euthanize a beloved member of our family, even more difficult. Many of you knew Louie. He was our farm greeter. He Loved being outside in the middle of things when we had an event at our farm. People asked for him. If I was having a class and he wasn’t with us, people would ask where he was, and I would have to go get him. Families would bring children to our farm, and they enjoyed our alpacas, but even more so they loved Louie. And Louie loved the attention. To the annoyance of some, he loved me, and wanted to be wherever I was, sometimes crying and whining until he could be with me. He would sit on a table underneath the front window of our house, and wait for me to get home. Apparently he even knew the sound of my car coming down our gravel driveway, and would cry to be let outside to come greet me. As a puppy, neighbors would have to bring him home because if I would leave, he would take off to come find me. I would imagine that’s how he ended up at the pound, where we found him. I think there must have been someone else that he loved before me.

This picture was taken seven years ago, long before he started going downhill, losing control of his back legs, and all the other sad things that followed. It was amazing how he still got around, having to drag his back legs behind him. Should I have made this decision sooner? Maybe. He didn’t seem to be in pain, still seemed to enjoy being outside in the sunshine, with me in the bunny shed, or laying at my feet wherever I was. When I realized he couldn’t stand on his own more than a minute, I knew it was time.

A dear friend sent me the following, titled “A Dog’s Plea”. I hope it might help you should you ever be faced with a tough decision involving a pet.

Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I might lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me things you would have me learn.

Speak to me often, for your voice is the world’s sweetest muci, as you must know by the firece wagging of my tail when your footsteps fall upon my waiting ear. Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.

Feed me clean food that I may stay well to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger. And. ,u friend, when I am very old, and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see that my trusting life is taken gently. I shall leave the earth knowing with the last breath I draw that … my fate was always safest in your hands.

I love this picture, though he always managed to squirm out of the sweater.

Laying in the sun in our gravel drive must have felt good to him, knowing I was nearby.

I’m imagining he’s been reunited with his good friend Lizzie, and all the other family pets that have gone before him … Sammie, Babe, Marshall, Chelsea, and Bojangles.

R.I. P. Louie … I love you!