Needle

Last boy I took for the death needle was my good old Harry, 15-yr old lurcher, creaking with arthritis.

This young 'un was a new experience.

Had to be done: be practical, stop indulging self, etc.

Found him Saturday, healthy little chappie. Vet closed and at that point thought might keep him so was in training mode, nudging him from entry in prep for being outdoor dog.

Thunder n lightning storm, of which Sam is terrified and is usually allowed in.

"NO mixed messages," I tell mum. "If Sam stays inside, I'm not training a puppy to stay out.".

Between then, accept reality that pup must be put down.

Meanwhile, I push the puppy gently but firmly from the door every time it makes to come in.

Monday morn: Vet opens at 10.

I might as well be there with the puppy, get it over with.

Might as well feed the babe before the big needle.

Open door and take food out, leave it open because what the heck if it comes in now?

H..akes to enter and stops at door stoop.

Get it to vet, tell him regret reason for delivery, vet nods and takes puppy to next room (doorless) and comes back to process 30 euro fee for put down.

As we talk, puppy appears in doorway and starts to waddle across.

Vet gets up to catch it and send it back but, instinctively, I say "NO! Not inside!" and pup retreats.

Dino the vet looks at me: "How long you train this?"

"Since yesterday."

"You're sure you want to do it?" (Gesture of needle jab)

I hardly nod.

I give Dino his 30 euros and walk out, not looking to see what I'm sure is the pup sitting inside the door, waiting for my next instruction.

Clever boy, swift learner.