dogs

Ransom freaks out whenever we pass a storm drain. The storm drains line almost every street we walk. Sometimes, they sneak by because Ransom's distracted by a squirrel or a scent. But when she keys in on a storm drain, no matter where we stand (my favorite is when we're crossing a busy intersection), she will dig her paws into the pavement, buckle down, and pull away from the drain.

I knew it as soon as I walked out on to the porch last Sunday night.  Our 12-year-old yellow lab, Fisher, was struggling to breathe, could not stand up, and would not eat or drink. I looked at Darren and said "I think it's time," as my voice began to break. Just the day before he seemed fine, but we had known for a while as we watched him age that his time was coming. We just didn't know it would be this day, this sudden.