As the plunger in the syringe slowly pushes the liquid into his veins, he gradually stops breathing. The pain of the last few weeks has drifted off with his last breath, so imperceptible I hadn’t noticed it. I just stare at the plunger waiting for some reaction from Max that this fluid of death has reached his heart. There is no response, just the sudden realization that the doctor is reaching for her stethoscope and placing it on his still chest, telling us he is gone. As I come out of my fog, I remember mid plunge the veterinarian telling him it was OK to chase the squirrels in the sky. Wait, I want to tell him I love him and loved the way he loved me, one last time. The moment is gone, and I hope in my heart of hearts he knows how much he was loved. Click here to read the full article…