The last photos

On Wednesday, I posted several hundred photos of Darcy, starting with her 2010 adoption pictures and working forward through the end of 2024. I did not include any shots from this year, but of course, there are some.

No surprise, most were taken on snow days.

Darcy loved the snow. When she was younger, she would spend hours playing in it. Sadly, time had taken its toll. This winter she mostly watched her sisters from the sidelines.

There are also a number of couch shots, both solo...

and with various members of the family.

That couch has always been her friend, but never more so than this year. 

She was, to be sure, a very old dog, but she was doing okay. 

Still, it only takes one bad day, and for Darcy, that bad day was Sunday.

She woke me up at five AM, not with her usual low, please-take-me-outside whine, but instead, with a loud, worried bark. Immediately, I knew something was wrong.

That something was her hind legs.

I helped her to her feet, and she was able to walk to the backdoor under her own power, but I knew. 

Fortunately, I was prepared. I had a number of pain meds on hand, prescribed by vet for just this reason. She rallied once they were on board, and we were able to spend a reasonably good day together. Still, I knew.

That night, I took all three dogs out to pee. Emma and Piper did their business and went back inside, but Darcy just wanted to walk and walk. She walked until her legs gave out, then plunked down in the grass. I went to help her up, but she didn't want that. She wanted to sit there and look at the stars. I went inside, put on a fleece jacket and then went back out to sit with her.

We sat outside for more than an hour. I told her she was the best dog ever. She gave me lots of kisses.

I snapped a few more pictures. 

I called the vet first thing in the morning. They were booked solid, but said they could work us in if we didn't mind waiting. I said that was fine. We didn't need an exam. There wasn't any doubt in my mind. 

I knew.

A lot of people suggested an at-home service. That's a good option for a lot of dogs, but not Darcy. She loved going places, and she loved riding in the car. So that's what we did.

I sat in the back with her, expecting to have to hold her up, but she was fine. She was so happy to be in the car. She so happy to be going somewhere.

Instead of going straight to the vet, we made a quick stop at McDonalds.

Darcy's been to a lot of drive throughs. When the food arrived, she looked away politely, assuming it was not for her.

It was all for her.

She spent the rest of the ride eating pancakes and sausage, with occasional breaks to look out the window. If she could have talked, I'm pretty sure she would have said this was one of the best car rides of her entire life.

This is the last photo I ever took of her.

Seth was waiting for us when we arrived at the vet's office. I carried Darcy from the car into the room and laid her gently on the bed. She didn't try to get up. She knew, and she was ready.

We did have to wait a bit, and that was fine. No one was in a hurry. Darcy seemed comfortable. We scratched her ears and shared our favorite Darcy memories. There were so many. Lots of tears were shed, but we laughed a lot, too. She was such a funny dog. We fed her so many Hershey's kisses.

Eventually, the time came. Since neither Ryan or James had witnessed a euthanasia, the vet went over what to expect. She mentioned that occasionally there will be a noise.

"Oh," I quipped, "This is Darcy. There's definitely going to be a noise."

Everyone laughed. Darcy smiled.

She passed easily and peacefully a few minutes later.

There was a noise.

She was the best and loudest dog ever. My house and my life are so quiet without her.