The damn front door blew open again tonight when it was supposed to be closed. The three dogs we share ran out the door and I chased them in the street. Lost 'em. Rode around in the car for a minute, then heard a bark. It was my lil buddy, Seymour, the dog I'd had for 3 years. MY dog. Figured out a plan of action, turned one corner, we'd turn the next and I'd look down one street and they'd drive the other way looking, turned the next corner, someone was in the street and Seymour was at their feet. He was still breathing shallow. I dropped to my knees and I wanted to touch him but I felt like some invisible wall was between us. This couldnt' be him. I grabbed him, got underneath him, picked him up and before I could get back to the car he stopped breathing. He died in my hands. I had to bury him tonight, I couldn't let it wait until morning. I miss him already. I really really miss him.
jewcy:
i'm sorry, sweetie.