Today, life got in the way of running. The greyhound died today. He was 13.5 years old. It was bone cancer so we knew he wasn't going to make it and got to say goodbye. I draw a lot of comfort from the fact that we know he had a very good life the short time he was with us. He was a Hurricane Katrina evacuee who never left our home. He couldn't go home, as he was not well taken care of before the storm. We honestly didn't think he and his friend would survive the first night at our house, they were in such bad shape. We gave him just over two very good years of life. I will miss him. The other dogs (and there are three of them) are being very affectionate, so I am not sure what they think. One, I call The Comforter since he has been very comforting when I have been very, very sad. He seems to know when I need an extra nuzzle. He seems to know that now. |