Yesterday, a loyal friend of mine passed away. The groundskeeper found him in the barn. Holmes always did enjoy playing with the horses. It was his favorite place to nap while he was outside.
And then, this morning, his brother passed away. Poor Watson. He was so grief-stricken. He just laid there in the barn near the spot where Holmes had passed. Wouldn't eat. Wouldn't drink. Wouldn't move, even when we pulled on his collar. I finally had to carry him inside so he wouldn't freeze. I stayed with him all through the night, until...
I knew... I knew this day was coming. They were both so old. Twelve years come Christmas. And Holmes had terrible arthritis. If he'd lived for much longer, he'd probably be in a lot of pain.
They were like the siblings I never had. The friends who stood by me when I had none. Constant reminders of the loving father who is no longer here with me...
I feel like I'm losing my father all over again...
((OOC: Naoto's two English Foxhounds passed away. Nothing graphic under the cut, but discussing the death of a beloved pet could be an uncomfortable topic for some people.))