At 8 she got cancer. Her breed usually has an average life expectancy somewhere between 8 and 12 years. When she got sick I would spend time just sitting on the floor with her. She hated taking her pills. It was always a struggle. You would think such a big dog, wrap it in cheese and no problem. Not Bella. She would eat the cheese and spit out the pill. I even tried my favorite underwood chicken salad with extra beak and claw. No go.
The last 2 or 3 days when I knew it was time, she told me, I sat with her, cried and told her I’m not going to let her die. But I knew we had to. I sat with her in the hospital while they did it. I still see it in my head. I should have never went in. I left saying I failed, I let her die. A few months or so later we had gone out with friends and had some drinks. I got home and lost it, my wife couldn’t calm me down. I kept saying I killed her, I failed.
At this moment I am in tears, so hers here final day pic with me sitting with her and how I remember her every day