Your last Christmas
Wrapped in our festivities
Exhausted old dog
I took this picture on Christmas Day 1983. I got dear, sweet Muttley when I was eight years old. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed but he was fuzzy and lovable. He would have been about thirteen in this photo and by then he had cataracts and was fairly deaf. He was so tired after all the excitement of gift opening that we were able to pile the wrapping paper on top of him and he never once stirred. He had been hit by a bus as a puppy and as a consequence suffered seizures about every six months for the rest of his life. About four months after this photo was taken, he went into a permanent seizure. I took him to the vet before heading to work and they said they would sedate him to see if he would come out of the seizure. After work I went to see how he was doing and it was clear he was never going to recover. It was then I realized my selfishness in trying to keep him alive that day. Feelings of compassion finally took over and I did the right thing. I said goodbye and let my childhood pup go.
In response to Patrick Jennings A Pic and a Word Challenge #33: Compassion