jenepel

So my mom just called me at work. Zack, our family dog, died last night.

(And then I cried, and my boss came into the room and got all worried, and when I told him what happened he said "oh! I thought something bad had happened", which, well I take his point, but STILL. Like, thanks Bruce.)

It's not unexpected. I don't know if you remember, but I went home a few months ago (when they were in Russia) because he was really sick. And he's been failing since then. Not bad enough that the vet said he was in pain or anything, but he's definitely been losing weight and not eating as much and reluctant to move around a lot. And he was 14. Which is a nice long life.

But I'm still crying again. Because he was my baby. He was just the sweetest dog, so loving and friendly and full of energy. I'm so glad I happened to be home last weekend to hang out one more time.

So my dad has to take him to be cremated today. Evidently that's what they do with large dogs. And mom says that then we can wait for Christmas when Trev's home and scatter or something. It's funny, because every other pet who has died we have buried in our backyard - two cats, a rabbit, two hampsters - but I guess he really is too big.

Anyway, um...sorry for details. I'm still a bit whoa. And I know it's not the most terrible thing in the world, but he's been a part of my life, my growing up, for 14 years, and it's so sad to think of going home and not being able to snuggle him.

I don't have any pictures here on my work computer, but here's one from last Christmas that was on facebook. Hope the link works; I think it's public. (Look how friendly he was with the cats!)