It close to 3:30 now. That is when I take Barney Fife, my 18 year old beagle to the vet, for the last time.I know most of us have had to perform this unpleasant but necessary task. I am not going to go into all his ailments, just to say his, and our quality of life has reached the point where its the right thing to do. I know its "the right thing to do", but that won't negate the feelings of grief I know myself, and most importantly, my family will feel this afternoon. My girls all have grown up with Barney. We all have cussed at him, played with him and taken great pleasure when we felt him curled up under our blankets, kinda like a furry security blanket. We laughed at his silly antics as a pup, smiled at his always wagging tail and hanging out tongue. Watched him chase rabbits till he couldn't run anymore, his Beagle bay being heard even when he was out of sight. I had along talk with Barney last night and told him what was up, I think the look in his eyes said, "thanks man". I gotta put my tough guy face on now.
Gonna miss ya Barney.
Gonna miss ya Barney.
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