For the 2nd time this year, my dog population is reduced. Back in January, my buddy Harley disappeared. I found his skeletized remains when I started mowing my 5-plus acres in May. Yesterday I had to say goodbye to Cooper. This, in many ways, was a much harder parting. Cooper had been sick and going completely blind for several months now. (He was already blind in one eye when we rescued him 8 or so years ago). Well, I hobbled out to his cage Saturday and could see he was not in good shape. I checked him again yesterday (Sunday 8/22) and could see that he was in pain, not moving well and just generally in bad shape. My daughter dug the grave for me (since I still have leg problems from the June 11th wreck) and went back in the house so that I could say goodbye before I put him down. He didn't suffer and the end came quick. I have to admit it took me a good ten minutes afterwards to stop crying so that I could bury him. (Even now, as I type I'm tearing up.) I buried him (that I could do with just my arms) and went back in the house and broke into tears again as I tried to tell my wife and daughter that it was quick and he didn't suffer. It will probably be a while before I think of Cooper and not tear up. Its harder losing a pet when you have to put them down. Even if you know that it better that they not suffer.
I think that once I get physically able I will take down the pen where Cooper resided. Not only will it make mowing a little easier, but I think it honors his memory a little that no one else has his cage.
Goodbye ole pal!