We've discussed how all of us deal with "end of life" portrait sessions and I've done more than my share of them. For me they are cathartic to some extent. Usually they are of dogs I know well and photographing them -- and holding them -- is a way to say "goodbye" as artistically and as sensitively as possible.

But what do you do when that dog is your own? Yesterday, we learned that Rowdy has lung cancer. It is advanced; it is terminal. And he has very little time. We've vowed to make his life now as much of an adventure as it's been for the other 11 1/2 years and to continue to spoil him until we no longer can. I've tried to photograph him now -- because even though he's thinner and more fragile, he's still the Rowdster. But every time I look through the viewfinder, I see another Rowdy. I see him as a puppy that nobody wanted. I see him as the strapping 3-year-old that ranked in the top 25. I see him as the empathic therapy dog that encouraged severely autistic children to rub his ears and smile for the first time in their lives. And I can't press the shutter. I simply can't do it.

So, over the next few days (maybe weeks) we'll take care of our guy. Soon, he'll let us know it's time for him to leave us. His girlfriends from all over the country -- the young women who have shown him and done therapy work with him -- have decided to come and visit him one more time. And, yes, I'll photograph those times because Rowdy will be incredibly happy. But I don't think I can do any "end of life" portraits. I guess I just want him to live forever. And, in people's hearts and memories, I think he will.

Jim

Oh my Jim I am so sorry to hear this news. I sit here fighting tears though we've never really met.

I just don't know. You have so many wonderful photos of him already so it isn't like you have to "make up" for not having them.

If it were me, and it was not so long ago, I'd probably keep a camera around for the good moments, but wouldn't make any special attempts to get "the shot." I think I'd just let it happen.

I wish I could offer some sort of comfort.

Best,
Jim

Oh my goodness Jim. How terribly sad. Even though I am a relative newcomer to NWP, I think that those of us who regularly frequent this forum and have been treated to tales of his many exploits have come to view Rowdy as a member of our extended family.

We all know of Rowdy's community service record. I also know that there is nothing I can say to console you right now, but I hope you can find some solace in knowing how much joy he brought into the lives of countless people.

Jim

Jim, I am so sorry for your difficult time. I hope you realize that your pain is felt by many and that we wish it could be an easier time for you. Give hugs and kisses from us as we have gotten to know him though your writings and images. Hugs to you too.

Jim, I am at a loss for words. My prayers are with you, Linda, and that big special guy of yours. Give the big lug so many hugs in the coming days that he gets annoyed! The images you have in your head and your heart of the special guy will last your lifetime...

Jim, I think you have it right. Rowdy is so lucky to have a Dad like you.

Enjoy your last times with him and show him some new adventures.

First of all, I just want to thank all of you for your kind words and, most of all, for caring. In all things in life, even the down times, there are things to smile about. I watch Rowdy and realize that he doesn't know he has cancer and so he doesn't feel sorry for himself. He doesn't feel as good as he has but it that doesn't mean he can't enjoy his life.

This morning, he came in from his morning potty break and spent about 10 minutes exchanging ear licks with Cassidy who is in heat. Rowdy's pretty sure he's going to get lucky one more time and Cassidy, though she's Rowdy's daughter, would be more than willing. The old boy is still a stud. When she goes into standing heat, we'll have to make sure they are kept apart or he just might try to make some more rowdy puppies.

And, speaking of rowdy puppies, we have a Rowdy kid staying with us this week. His name is Max and he's bigger than Sundance (honest). I'll take some pics of him later today to share because I think you'll enjoy them. BTW, his formal name is Beachwalker's Rowdy To The Max .

Thanks to everyone for your comments.

Jim

I am so sorry Jim. I have tears rolling down my cheeks reading this. I did have the pleasure of meeting Rowdy in Florida and I feel very lucky to have

You see with your heart which is why I tell people I do not want to help them choose their photos. They see something very different than I do

Jim,

I am so sorry to hear about Rowdy. I will keep you, your family and Rowdy in my prayers. Rowdy is very lucky to have such a wonderfuly family.

L

Hi Jim,

I am sorry that Rowdy is ill. I hope that the time he has left is as pain-free as possible. I completely agree with you about how hard it is to photograph your loved one when it feels like the end. There are so many dynamics attached to the photo session that make it different than when you are photographing someone else's. The irony is that I am sure that much of your business, like mine, is made up of families where the pet is at the end of their life.

I was about to share my own experience with Four Legged James when he was sick, but I don't want to take the focus from Rowdy. To make a long story short, it is a hard job that you took on...one that I also struggled with when the rubber hit the road. As another thought, have you considered asking a colleague that you trust to try a session if it is too much emotionally?

James