Kezzstar wrote:
Ever since I was 10 years old, I've had a Beagle-shaped shadow following me around. Sometime last week we think he had a stroke, as he lost control of his tail and back legs to the point where when we took him to his favourite spot on the creek he could barely crawl around trying to be his old self. That was on Monday, about a half an hour before we had him put to sleep forever. It was the right thing to do, he would have been throughly miserable and in pain and there was no way we were going to put him through that. It would have broken him (as it was, his spirit was still strong when he went, and so was his stomach, a whole packet of dog treats...). It's Thursday now and I'm still devastated. He was 2 weeks from his 17th birthday (we got him when he was a year old).
I miss him so much. The Boss came in to ask how I was doing with a few jobs and I just started crying. You would think it being Thursday I would be OK now but I'm not. I thought I was OK yesterday after my walk (which always makes me happy) but I'm not. Plus my best friend who works with me has lost his dad too, which makes me even sadder.
I miss you Morgan.

Now you have me going. In about 6 weeks, it will be 28 years since Mom put down my sheltie, 3 weeks after we buried Dad. That dog was estimated to be 25 years old, according to the vet. We got her in 1971, from an uncle who was going to skin her alive, since she wouldn't hunt rabbit. (Hello??????! !! !! ! Shelties are shepherds, not hunting dogs, you jackass! This is the same uncle who told me I was going to hell for listening to the music of Bach, Beethoven and Brahms, among other people in that congregation.)
I still miss my lap buddy.