Kayo – #8
“It’s time, Bob.”
“For what?” I answered.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it is time to put him down.”
I was afraid of that.
But my stepfather was right.
It was time; Kayo was an old dog now and he was suffering every day. He could not get his back end to work properly and he sort of dragged his back legs along when he tried to walk. “Hip dysplasia” they called it. We had him looked at by a vet and that is what he called it.
Kayo had a great life (see the stories above) but he was old and found living a hard task now. Nevertheless, it was hard to think of “putting him down” – or, let’s be honest, shooting him.
“We’ll need your help, Bob. He won’t go with Hank or with me – only you.”
Oh, no; I will have to get him to get in the truck and take him on his final trip. I felt conflicted: I really loved that dog – we had been friends for several years while at the same time understanding that he was in pain and it was time. So, I went to his doghouse and talked to him about what was going to happen. As usual he seemed to understand me and I started to cry. He looked at me as if to say, “It’s OK, kid; all lives end at some time or other and mine has been a good one. Do not worry; I will be better off.”
I walked over to the truck and opened the door. Kayo wagged his tail and with a little help got into the cab. I sat behind him and put my arm around his neck. I thought about all of our days together and the fun we had had. He seemed to understand and accept that this was to be his last trip.
We drove to the “other place” – a half-section of pasture and rocks and drove out into the field.
We stopped. I said “goodbye” to my companion and Hank took his rifle and with one shot killed Kayo.
I cried a bit, but I did understand the need to do it.
We got in the truck and drove home in silence.