As far as a Dog’s life goes, his wasn’t too bad. He wasn’t mistreated or forced into fighting, or starved. He lived to about 14 years of age, which is good for a Dog. He went quietly.
When I noticed the smell of the crap I went over to him and knew immediately what had happened. I paused for a moment and noted the tongue hanging out his of partially open mouth. He looked like he was making a funny face. There is no grace in Death.
I wouldn’t call him my Dog, because he didn’t belong to me. He belonged to an X girlfriend, who left, but didn’t take her dogs.
His brother is a little freaked out, understandably. They have never been separated, since birth.
It cost a mere $5 for disposal, but getting the body to the Animal Shelter was no fun.
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