My dog died yesterday at 7 years old. It was extremely sudden-onset canine influenza. On Thursday, her regular vet said her lungs sounded good and advised we give her cough two weeks to clear up. On Friday, she was still spunky. We played. On Saturday, she took a turn for the worse and I hospitalized her. Sunday morning, she was gone. It was that fast.
I'm sad, of course, but not as sad as her brother. He's inconsolable, refusing cookies and comfort. He just sits in the corner, looking out the window for her. It's fairly devastating to watch.
While I'm at it, here's my favorite Poindexter picture. That's her stomach. She's using me as a hammock while I sit on the back deck.
