Jourtaling:
When my dog was dying and there was nothing I could do (piroplasmosis due to a tick bite), he looked at me carefully too. Then he took my hand in his mouth and gave it a little squeeze. It didn't hurt. I only realised afterwards that he did that as a memento. Two years before that I had pulled him from the dead, he had rectal cancer. He had an operation and it was a success. Otherwise it would have been a terribly painful death from what would inevitably have been peritonitis. He recovered and was cheerful. And the tick, a small bug, took my pickiness to the ground. Although he lived a lot by dog standards - 13 and a half years, but it seems to me that he could still please me for 2-3 years. After the death of this dog I can't get anyone else. My son has a Staffordshire terrier. This dog also loves me very much and only two people (my son and I) can manage with him, but not lying soul. Not so it, fussy and pugnacious, and mine was the very nobility. And he understood everything subconsciously. He seemed to read his mind. It was good to keep silent and talk to him. He understood everything. And we travelled a lot. But now my soul is empty. My dog friend Umka has gone over the rainbow.
Awww I'm so sorry for the lost of your friend. Dogs are the absolute best! This is such a beautiful page for sweet Umka. Thanks so much for playing along with my challenge
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