Collette died in the car on the way to the vet's for her appointment this afternoon. Or in Walt's arms as he carried her in. We had to wait a few minutes when we arrived, and decided to wait in the car with the dog. I went in and told the receptionist we were there. Then I went back out to the car and Walt said Collette was taking a breath only every 15 seconds or so. The breath was going out of her.
The vet came out to the car, and when Walt lifted Collette to take her inside, the vet, Mme G., said she thought the dog was already dead. Walt carried her into the examining room and laid her on a table. The vet listened with a stethoscope and then touched Collette's eye. There was no reaction. She's gone, the vet said. "You don't have to feel you've rushed things," she told us. There was no need for euthanasia.
Collette's body will be incinerated and we will get the ashes in a couple of weeks. We will scatter them out in the vineyard behind la Renaudière, where Collette spent some of her best days.
I wanted to post a picture of Collette that I took today, but Blogger doesn't seem to be accepting pictures right now...