Sad

Some things are so sad that you don't want to write them down, because then they become a part of your history. They become real. And I don't want this to be real, but I guess there's no changing the facts. We had to put our sweet Bexar/Bear down yesterday. When the time came, there wasn't really any denying what had to be done, and I know he wasn't really there any more, which made the decision easy. I am trying to focus on the Bexar that would knock you over for his leash and then proceed to walk himself with his leash in his mouth for a mile. The Bexar that would lean into your legs in a loving "leg hug" until you thought your knees would snap. The Bexar that could maneuver his cold biscuit nose under your arm so your hand was perfectly positioned for head scratches at his will. There are so many wonderful memories, and it's impossible to pick a favorite. He will always be a huge part of our family's history as our biggest "lap dog" (maxing out at 109 pounds at his heaviest), the first dog to live in four houses, and essentially giving Rick and me a trial run at parenthood.

Thank you buddy, for being a faithful and loving companion for the past 11 or so years. You taught us that getting slobbery just means you are sharing the love and that massive amounts of fur equals an excellent cuddle buddy on cold winter days (and makes all that sweeping well worth it). We will all miss you. Go lay down now.