And it's not even him. It's just his breed. And totally reminds me of him, which is why I bought it in the first place. I actually miss having to place myself between him and the pool when he went outside, to make sure he didn't fall in as he walked by. Of course there is a part of me that is truly relieved, but I would rather have him here and have to walk between him and the pool if it meant he was alive.
But then I remember that he really was miserable. When he would walk behind me and I would stop, sometimes I caught a glimpse of his eye fluttering as if to say "Whoa! That was close. Please don't stop so abruptly, Mom!" And usually he wasn't that close. He always thought he was closer to things than he was, but on the other hand, he was running into things because he didn't realize HOW close he was. His depth perception was all out of whack. Of course. Having one eye will do that to you.
So really, I should be grateful that we have the ability to put our sweet pets out of their misery. What I'm upset about is that we have to lose them at all. You saw his puppy picture from my earlier post this week...how cute was he??
He loved his ball. I could say, "Where's your ball?! Go get your ball!" And he KNEW what I was saying. That's the only "command" he ever learned. :)
And he was so tolerant of Savannah when she was little.
And these are our other 2 angel dogs who I'm hoping greeted him when he arrived at heaven's door.
And I will "end" on this note:
Because his tail actually went bald like an old man's head!