My poor puppy.
My family had to put our dog down yesterday. It was a joint decision, because we could all see he was getting sicker and sicker. He'd lost two pounds or so in the last week, which is a lot when you weigh 20 pounds. He had the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel mitral valve disorder, which means his heart was enlarged and his lungs were filling with
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thanks so much for making me cry. That was a really nice eulogy for him, though. I am happy that you got to spend a day with him before having to put him down and that you got those extra two years. But it still sucks ass.
I want things to start improving for you. Or to at least feature less death. And they say bad stuff always comes in threes so...I figure it's me or Owen next. It probably won't be Owen.
*hugs*
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