My beloved dog, Buddy, was sent to a pain-free place yesterday. He was 16-years-old, darn good for a dog of any size, damn good for a dog of his size. He looked like a small Lab-Sheppard cross, but several people told us/asked if he was a Walker Hound. He certainly had all the characteristics of a Walker Hound, including that knock-ya-across-the-room-tail of his. I'll never forget the time Aidan and I sat down on the deck and Buddy came rushing up all excited, as he usually was and you could actually HEAR his tail hit poor Aidan in the head! I debated taking the poor kid to the hospital to check for a concussion.
Buddy could be at that fabled Rainbow Bridge now. Or he could be standing on the outside still waiting to get in because Cutie is laying in the doorway and he's too afraid to walk past her. Silly dog. I think Hemmi would stick up for him, tho. Even tho he too gave Cutie a wide berth when he was with us. Silly cat. And Cutie would be loving the whole thing. Typical cat.
It was so hard to see him go and I keep forgetting that he IS gone. Then my heart gets crushed all over again.
This is going to take a long time to get used to (dangling participles be damned).
Stay loose.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
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