I died on a Tuesday.
I was old. My once golden fur had long since faded to white. My joints ached. My body hurt. The seizures were robbing my mind of more of me every day.
Iâ€™d wandered the backyard. I tossed my tire rope to myself for a while. I chased my ball. I remembered being a younger pup; I could play fetch for hours, rest for a few moments and hit the grounds for more. Continue reading