Christmas was approaching and our boy was slipping away. We knew things were only going to get worse for him and the last thing I wanted to do was sedate him to kingdom come and force him to endure more discomfort so we could try to have a normal holiday. One of my close friends said it best “It’s going to be a shitty Christmas either way”. So I decided to do it early, on Sunday morning we opened his presents and all our socks.
Kona’s knows his, it smells of treats from Christmas’ past and says Merry Christmas in Hawaiian. We stuffed it with a few treats and a new toy – he managed with help to get his face deep inside and pull out the cookies. He managed a little tug of war with the new toy also with my husband. Traditionally his Christmas toys don’t make it to New Years, but I could see this time he wasn’t into it.
That evening as I prepped dinner, Kona went outside and sat at the bottom of the stairs for almost an hour. Something he had not done in ages, we nicknamed him the house cat because he would be in and out so frequently. I kept looking out and could see his head, ears pinned back just surveying the air, garden, trees, sounds of the neighborhood he knew so well. It took every fiber of my being not to call him back in and hug him, but I resisted, he deserved this moment to himself.