Tuesday, April 29, I had to have my dog put to sleep.

I've had dogs hit by cars. I've had dogs lay down and die from old age. I've never had to carry a living dog into a vet's office and have it killed to end its suffering.

We got Lloyd about a year ago. He was a rescue dog, a cranky, fat, flatulent little Chihuahua who had spent the bulk of his life in a tiny cage at a puppy farm somewhere in Tacoma. It took him a while to get used to us, but when he did, the personality that came out was amazing. This was a dog that weighed about 11 pounds and yet would routinely charge dogs ten times his size. He was affectionate until you did something to make him mad, at which point he would find your shoes and pee in them. Seriously. We always knew who Lloyd was displeased with. He was very specific, when he went for the footwear.

He was vocal. He grunted a lot, sort of like a potbellied pig. At first we thought it was a breathing problem. Then we noticed the grunts would get louder when he wanted attention. He liked to walk around the neighborhood. More people in our neighborhood knew Lloyd than knew me.

A week ago, we noticed he was off his food. He was eating a little and sleeping a lot. This trend got worse over the course of a couple of days, and so I took him to the vet. Blood tests ensued, and showed that Lloyd's kidneys were failing from an infection.

Our vet, Dr. John Stevenson, is a hero. The weekend of April 25 and 26, Dr. Stevenson literally took Lloyd home with him, to pump him full of intravenous fluids and antibiotics. Sunday the 27th, we took Lloyd home again, hoping the treatment would clear the toxins out of his system and kick-start his kidneys. He rallied briefly Sunday night and Monday. Monday another round of blood was taken for testing. Tuesday morning, Lloyd was off his food again. The doctor called. The news wasn't good.

Early that afternoon, before taking Lloyd for his last ride, I posted on a Web board the news that my little amigo would have to be put down, along with some lyrics from a favorite song.

At the clinic, my partner Dawn held Lloyd as Dr. Stevenson gave him the final injection. We cried--Dr. Stevenson too--as he went limp for the last time.

We're not particularly religious people, or prone to credit the supernatural, but--Dawn and I stepped out on to the porch of the clinic, still in tears, to find a sudden downpour just ending, and in the distance--in the direction of our house, no less--a giant rainbow in the sky.

And the lyrics, I had posted hours earlier? "The Rain Song."

"These are the seasons of emotion
And like the winds they rise and fall
This is the wonder of devotion-
I see the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient-
Upon us all a little rain
Must fall."

Adios, Senor Lloyd. Vaya Con Dios.