R.I.P. Kayla
I just got off the phone with my Dad. It turns out that while I was having brunch at Sneaky Dees today he and Philip were burying Kayla in the backyard.
She started bleeding from the mouth last night so they took her to the Wychwood Animal Clinic this morning and put her down. I know it was for the best. Her health has been getting worse and worse over the last few years. But I still feel like I've been kicked in the gut.
Kayla was an Italian greyhound, she lived to be ~16 (we're still trying to remember exactly when my Dad got her).
I remember when we took her to the park she'd run like the wind itself.
I remember picking her up, pointing her at a squirrel, and the second you dropped her she'd be off like a shot.
I remember how she'd snuggle under the covers to sleep (because she liked the warmth). She'd growl if you disturbed her.
I remember one night outside Aunt Joanne and Uncle Tom's. Kayla had on a collar that clinked a bit, it was night, and the houses threw patches of light on the nearby field. She was running. You could track her by the sound of her collar, and occasionally you'd see a flash as she passed through a patch of light.
Dad wrapped her up in a quilt he made. She's buried in the backyard at my Mom's house, along with Kitcat and Olive.
She started bleeding from the mouth last night so they took her to the Wychwood Animal Clinic this morning and put her down. I know it was for the best. Her health has been getting worse and worse over the last few years. But I still feel like I've been kicked in the gut.
Kayla was an Italian greyhound, she lived to be ~16 (we're still trying to remember exactly when my Dad got her).
I remember when we took her to the park she'd run like the wind itself.
I remember picking her up, pointing her at a squirrel, and the second you dropped her she'd be off like a shot.
I remember how she'd snuggle under the covers to sleep (because she liked the warmth). She'd growl if you disturbed her.
I remember one night outside Aunt Joanne and Uncle Tom's. Kayla had on a collar that clinked a bit, it was night, and the houses threw patches of light on the nearby field. She was running. You could track her by the sound of her collar, and occasionally you'd see a flash as she passed through a patch of light.
Dad wrapped her up in a quilt he made. She's buried in the backyard at my Mom's house, along with Kitcat and Olive.