Today's a very sad day for me. My dog of 13 years died due to a seizure condition that we tried to improve but couldn't. I'm glad she made one last trip with us to see my parents, but she had not been herself for weeks. She had been remarkably healthy right up till a couple of months ago, and we heard from other husky owners that that's how it is with them: fine and then a quick descent down.
I cried a lot today, but I've been crying inwardly for a while watching her fight her dying mind and body. I really feel like she's free not dead, like her spirit was getting weighed down by the body that wasn't responding.
This was Mike's first dog, and he had her for many good years. I only wish he'd seen her as a puppy. I have so many great memories of her, I wish he'd had as many, too.
So, wherever she is I know she's free to do as she pleases: chase birds, hop on God's couch, and never worry about another thunderstorm.
I'll miss you Twosers!