We got our King Shepherd cross from a friend when he was 1. He was aptly named Wilbur. And he was 11 years old. He was a beautiful cream colour with shades of black on his back. He was the perfect dog: docile temperament, laid back, loved our kids, loved strangers, friendly around other dogs and rarely barked. He was perfect.
On late Monday night when we let him out to pee, Wilbur collapsed and was panting profusely. We knew it was serious. We put him on a blanket and carried him inside as he was about 120 pounds. We stayed with him for a few hours trying to give him water, but he refused. We knew we were losing him. We rushed him to the vet in the morning and were told that he had a bleeding tumour. He had no blood pressure and he was clearly in distress. We knew we were going to have to say goodbye. We held him, stroked him, kissed his beautiful head while he went to sleep. My husband and I were both crying so hard we were hyperventilating as he took his last breath.
To say I am heartbroken is an understatement. He was my first dog and mine and my husband’s first dog as a couple. We were incredibly blessed to have had him. Our friends and family were crushed when we told them because they loved him. He loved everyone. He was a sweetheart. I have been crying ever since I got that feeling we were going to lose him. Everything reminds me of him. My husband is devastated. My kids are sad.
Rest easy Mom’s boy. We love you Wilbur and you have left our paw prints on our hearts forever.
