RIP Little Dog

A pet owners worst nightmare and greatest wish came to fruition this morning. I got up and went into the kitchen. Little Dog was lying in his crate, I walked over closer and checked for breathing. He was not breathing. He had been a little more fussy over the past few weeks, but he didn't seem really sick or in pain. As of today he was 11 years, 10 months and 3 three days. I think that makes him about 82 in people years. Honestly, I thought he would be around for 20 years! Little Dog was mine and hubby's first big test. Hubby said if I could get Little Dog to eat homemade dog food and get along with the cats then anything else we had to do together would be a piece of cake. Little Dog ate homemade food most of the past eight years and quickly bowed down to the big cat. One of the funniest moments of our early married life was early one morning or very lat eon night, I heard a werewolf snarl, I screamed bloody murder and hubby groaned like a zombie. I thought Little Dog was going to eat up hubby's kitty. Hubby and I still laugh about this moment today. The kids and I picked out a special sheet to bury him in and the kids put a ball and rosary cross with him. Number One Son and Number One Daughter knew just where we should bury him, the "sunny spot" in the yard. I spent some time soaking the spot so that when hubby got home the ground wouldn't be so rock hard. We all cried today, extended family included. Little Dog was a blessing and his peaceful death was a gift to hubby and me too.