Only a few days after returning from Hawaii, we embarked on the saddest camping trip ever. It wasn't supposed to be that way. A return to one of our favorite camping spots with the stroller hiking group seemed like a good idea. Everyone seemed to be having a good time except for our dog Nash.
He was moving slowly as he has the past year, but he still enjoyed making friends with the other campers and scavenging the kitchen area for whatever dropped food he could find. Sunday morning we knew something was up when he refused to eat his breakfast. Anyone who has spent a full day with Nash knows the hearty enthusiasm he has for his food, Nash refused to go anywhere other than into the car. We let him curl up in his preferred spot, and took that as a good reason to pack everything up and go. By the time we we were ready to hit the road, Nash was gone.