Thursday, June 24, 2010

81/365


about 14 years ago, a 6-month-old bundle of black and white fur leaped into my arms. He moved with me from Seattle to Arizona to Georgia to Texas and finally here, to California.

He's been slowing down recently and couldn't hear so well, but still loved food and would follow me anywhere.

Today when I came home from running errands, he couldn't get up, not for me, not for a treat. The vet said that, basically, he was dying. So I stayed with him as they shaved a bit of his leg and injected the bright pink fluid into his leg and it broke my heart.

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