|Not my boy, but almost.|
It's an example of how a real event can become a part of fiction and it's a tribute to my good old boy Harley.
Though the scene took place on the shore of a another river very far from here, what happened to the dog in this opening, is what happened to my dog, when he was a puppy, twelve years ago.
Once a handsome young adult, we call him our old boy now. Though he struggles on some days, he is not suffering. We have given him a good life, keep him comfortable and let him know that he is adored. Though his days are sometimes difficult, he is still able. We feel this will be his last winter but until the day comes when we may have to make the decision, I would rather leave to God, we hold him tight and tell him he is the best of the best and loved.
There is a lesson here I think. Maybe two. Don't underestimate spirit and heroes are everywhere.