Yesterday, our ever loyal friend, protector and companion passed away. We have known since October that he had a tumour that was pressing on his spine. As a result, his back legs would go out on him and he no longer was able to go on the long walks that he loved.
We thought the best way to handle it was to just let Nature take its course. That da Wolf passed away six days after my brother passed, seems cruel. But, sometimes life is just that, cruel and unfair. His name was not da Wolf, his name was Sir (as in, he’s so darn big, people have no choice but to call him Sir).
He started off having a good day yesterday. In the morning he lay under a tree in the backyard. Graham took him for a very short walk, and Sir got quite a few cookies in the afternoon. He lay down on his rug, and had a bad stroke. Graham was in the room when it happened, which is a comforting thing.
We cuddled with him until it was time to call the vet.
We had hoped that Sir would make it home to the Valley, so he could be buried under his favorite tree. That was not meant to be, and so we will bury his ashes under that tree instead. It was one of his favourite places to be, as he could watch both the barnyard and the house from that spot.
We are so grateful that he didn’t pass away while we were in Saskatoon, saying good bye to my brother. We are thankful that we were able to be with him at the end of his life. Sir would have been 13 years old in April and he was half wolf and half malamute.
We will miss him terribly. We simply could not have asked for a better companion – he was one of a kind. Goodbye, friend.