Bad things come in threes, they day. I’m just waiting for the third. My dad’s dog was put down at about 9 am this morning. He had been really sick for the past week, throwing up, not eating much and going to the bathroom all the time. We thought it had to do with how bad his teeth were, thinking bacteria got into his blood stream or something. Turns out it was his kidneys again. He was diabetic, and his kidneys got really big around the time we found out. So he was put down. I miss the little guy already. No more “flat tires” or hearing “chu!” (which is the noise he made to go outside). No more accidentally running into the couch…(he was blind.) My depression hasn’t lifted. I’m starting to think something’s clinically wrong again.
