Dogs start as puppies, full of silliness with wagging tails and glowing eyes and immediately they worm their way into your heart.
You raise them right, you give them structure, but most of all you give them love and puppies turn into dogs.
Dogs become companions.
Fuzzy companions become family.
Then you get that call. The one that says we were trying to reach you something happened.
You throw the truck you are working on back together and you drive across town trying not to go like a bat out of hell. Then you find out that you beat them there. You find yourself standing there not knowing how bad it is. And the only thing you can do is grab that damn tennis ball he has set in your lap so many times and hold it hoping when he gets there it will bring him some comfort.
Then people have that conversation with you. Maybe it would be best if you put him down. Surgery is expensive. Shepherds have bad hips. Why would you throw money away on a dog. Maybe it is better this way.
Then you tell them I don't care about the money, he is family.
to be continued...
