By John Coleman
He who understands everything about his subject cannot write it. I write as much to discover as to explain. —Arthur Miller
Two days ago at this time, wife Kathy and I sat in our living room, not watching whatever cooking program was on television. Son Micah was in the attic having a go at his electric drum set.
When I got down to the last bite of my cold breakfast sandwich, I said, “I was just going to give this to Watson.”
But rigor mortis was setting in about this time, our old buddy having received the injections that cemented our decision to euthanize him. The first shot made him snore deep in his throat. The second killed him almost immediately. Once the syringe of blue pentobarbital started to empty, I wondered how often pet owners say, “Hey, stop, wait, I changed my mind.” Continue Reading…