Hmm...back home now. I spent the weekend visiting the parental units, brothers and their respective wives.
My mom's dog, Fozzie, aka my little fur-brother, died a little over a week ago after a long battle with cancer. That was really tough--he's been in our family since 1994. This was the first time I had been to their house since he died and the idea just was not cemented in until I was actually there without him sleeping at my feet or nudging me to scratch his ears. He went through a period of remission after taking chemotherapy treatments and it extended his life by another two years; he seemed to be happy and feeling good, but the last few days he was really sickly. My dad was taking him to the vet's office when the poor li'l guy had a seizure and died instantly in the backseat of the car. I visited the spot where they buried him--he's underneath a very lovely tree, buried with his first and favorite toy.
My mother did all that was humanly possible to care for Fozzie and keep him well and she is completely devastated. He went through a lot, but I don't believe he suffered. He took the treatments like a real trooper and had his bad days, but he also had a great many good days too.
It was a depressing weekend and of course my dogs reaped untold rewards...
Current Mood: 
depressed
depressedCurrent Music: Chills: Pink Frost
