No more dooking, no more dancing.
No more bright eyes, peering, glancing,
Looking for trouble, looking for fun.
Cujo is gone.
RUN, Cujo, RUN
 
We stayed up until midnight holding Cujo and letting him lick chicken gravy
off our fingers.  He was weak but still wanted to toddle around the floor.
At 5:00 am, I got up, and he was VERY cool and weak.  I wrapped him in a
towel and put the heating pad under him and laid him beside me on the
couch.  His breathing was very shallow and rapid.  But he was still
fighting.  He would lift his head up and try to get up.  He would not eat
or drink.  I was waiting until 8:00 am to take him to the vet to end his
suffering.  But Cujo did it his way.  At 7:15 am, today, Tuesday morning,
he took a deep breath, trembled a little and was gone.  I was laying beside
him, cuddling and petting him and talking to him.  I feel it was as deep a
privilege to be with him went he went as it was to have had him in better
times.  He would over and over to get on the couch when he was better and
out running around.  The moment we let our guard down, Cujo was on the
couch.  Seemed fitting that he was on the couch, where he LOVED to be
when he went.  We buried him in the yard, with his favorite snug sack, a
Cheweasel and a pair of my old slippers.  Cujo was never happier than when
he was headed across the floor, head high, with a shoe or slipper to hide.
And he LOVED Chewweasels, the only one of our four that did.  Now he has
them forever.  To those who have sent messages and love in the past, we
thank you all.  We will miss Cujo.  He was our first.  He has his snuggy,
my slippers, his Cheweasel and most of our hearts with him.  Not to say
that we don't love the other three just as much.
 
Cujo fought for over two and a half years.  He was the toughest creature,
man or beast, that I have ever know.  And the tenderest.  I will miss his
Cujo kisses.
 
Goodbye Cujo.
Charles, Ag, Donna, Bandit, Snowball and Valentine,
[Posted in FML issue 2847]