THE DAY CAMOTS THE WOLF DOG DIED.

January 16, 2017. Today is the day that I was afraid of for years, dreading it`s arrival. Today is the day Camots the wolf dog died.
R.I.P my friend, I hope you are at the rainbow bridge now, meeting even more of the nice smelling French chicks that you liked so much in the last few weeks here at the beach.

You had the purest soul, the biggest heart, the coolest outfit and were always up for creating some trouble. We will miss you and never forget – and hopefully we will meet again. The way this played out, was the way I always hoped it would: A few days ago you were still having a blast at the beach, then out of nowhere, you became sick and it was clear that it was serious. You only had to struggle for a few days until you were allowed into the next level. No surgery, no fearful regular visits at the doc, and no more pain. Good job, you always played your cards well! You never got sick, you only ate what you needed – not too much not too little and you managed to keep all your things in order and proper.I miss you so much.

What happened? When I went through my worst year ever F… 2016!, I ended up jumping with Camots in the Kampfwagen (Sprinter) and going on a road-trip. on our greatest journey. (Read all about it here). Somehow I knew it would not only be our greatest journey but also our last journey and that we would not make it back. Which made me consciously enjoy every minute with Camots (even when he had diarrhoea in the van… 😉 He got to do everything he wanted – and often our next move was defined by his needs/mood. Which was great – because we ended up in the most beautiful places. But most importantly, because of him, we also got to meet awesome people.

Eventually we ended up in a paradise-like place near Biarritz, at the French Atlantic coast, were we settled for a few weeks and spent “quality time” together. I am writing this, because I am not that really nice deep guy, that is always there and does this by nature: On the contrary, my thoughts are often elsewhere and I did my things while Camots was just tagging along. But not so on this trip: three walks a day, tailored to a comfortable distance for Camots (he had back and hip problems) and many evenings just hanging out in the cute little studio that we rented. Another thing that greatly added to the beauty of this trip was the amazing ease and welcoming way of the French people towards dogs – and as always, Camots enjoyed “VIP status”… 😉

And then… I had seen it coming for some time and he also seemed to know. Four days ago he started to get sick and be in obvious pain. He stopped eating and signalled that this is serious and that he is done fighting. It took me a bit to realise it, this morning we still went on a short walk to the beach, then I went and bought some rice and chicken, thinking that it was only his digestion malfunctioning  and that he is already on the way back up. It was not, but Camots  happily enjoyed what ended up being his last meal and fortunately he did not know. Camots was seemingly feeling better after the nice food and even rolled on his back on his pad – something he does when he is enjoying himself and did not do for days…

Just to be safe, I also passed by the vet (I still thought I should wait another day to save him the dog-doc-visit, hoping for quick recovery).  The doc urged me to bring him over so he can take a look. After that things went quickly: bad news from the diagnosis (Prostata, I will not go into the details…). I reached out to a friend in Switzerland (vet) for a 2nd opinion and she confirmed everything ((Thank you again for the huge help/support)). With Camots already being nine years old, suffering from bad arthritis in back and hip, I did not want him to go through surgery, regular doc-visits and hope for an uncertain recovery.Camots went out like a man, big balls, no whining. He must have often been in big pain, but he was enjoying his life till the last day.Today is the day Camots the wolf dog died.
R.I.P. I miss you.