Last night Lagniappe finally lost his remaining ability to walk. We sat together on the floor and shared a last bag of popcorn, then I lifted him up onto my bed and talked to him and petted him until around one AM. This morning, he didn't even want to get up, so I didn't make him. I cooked a nice breakfast of sausage and potatoes and gave him half, on his own plate on the bed. Then we took a long ride among the fall colors, stopping to buy a couple of donuts on the way to the vet. He went peacefully. He just closed his eyes, and then he was gone.
He's in a better place now, able to run and play again while he waits for me, no doubt in the company of another German Shepherd and a Golden Retriever that went before him.
Lagniappe, it seems like just yesterday that you came to live with me.
Thank you for eight great years, my friend.
I'll miss you.