Nine days ago my husband and I had to make the difficult decision to have our furbaby, Max euthanized. He'd been epileptic for 3 years and was having round-the-clock seizures despite medication. At 96 lbs, Max was a handful during and after a seizure and the repeated seizures with no recovery time (about 20 over 2 days) were causing him to fail. His breathing was very labored, he was blinded from the damage to his brain, and just wasn't Max any more. The mobile vet who came to our assistance examined him and noted a large mass in his belly. She believed he either had cancer or very swollen organs. We had asked our regular vet about his belly before and were told it was normal. I'm more inclined to believe the cancer, since his belly had been large and firm for a long time. His medication can cause such problems, as well as hip problems which he also had. Max was not quite 6 years old. He was the sweetest boy, but would turn watchdog on a moment's notice. He was probably in a good bit of pain, but hid it from us until those last hours. We couldn't let him suffer any longer.

I miss my buddy. Our other dog, Oliver, does too. He still seems to be looking for him at times.