Friday, December 2, 2011
He literally walked into our life shortly after The Wife had to put down her dog of sixteen years; we were leaving her house to go somewhere, when a rail-thin, hyper dog trotted up into the yard. No collar, tattoos, or chips. As fate would have it, my recently purchased home had a shed with an attached kennel inside a fenced yard. The thought of the local pound euthanizing him if no one showed up to claim him was on our minds, so over to the kennel he went. Three weeks of searching for owners was without result; after paying a bill for neutering, the dog was mine as far as I was concerned, and shortly after that was ours in newly joined household. Months of chewing whatever was available, including wooden carvings, window shades, and vacuum cleaners eventually passed. What was left was one of the most loving dogs I've ever encountered. He couldn't hunt worth a damn, but he provided my wife with loving company and protection through three deployments over the past decade. He was a far better companion than most people I've known. We loved him as a member of our family.
Today was his last day.
There's a spot in our hearts that will always be empty now.