We said goodbye to our sweet Boomie on Monday.  He had started having grand mal seizures a couple of weeks ago.   After putting him on medication, he seemed better, and although he continued to have lots of little “spells” where he would wobble or even fall down, he would get back up literally in a second, like someone turned a switch off and right back on.  And he was acting like himself:  happy, responsive, still moving around on his own with an assist from his harness.  Last Friday, the big seizures came back with a vengeance.  Saturday we started him on another medication, which left him unable to walk or even sit up until it was almost time for the next dose, and he was still having many small seizures.  By Sunday, we realized he wasn’t going to get better, and it was time.  I waited till Monday so I could have my regular vet do it, and not some total stranger.

In spite of my grief, I feel relief that Boomie is no longer suffering, and he really only had a few bad days at the end. He had a good life, beating the odds for cancer survival and even growing old, as a beloved pet should. And for that, I feel grateful. I could not have asked for anything more.