About 14 years ago I adopted a dog, a chihuahua. I named him Iggy Poop. He was 2 or 3 and had been abused and abandoned. He hated men with beards and I had a beard. He got over it, I have had other abused dogs and know how to bring them along. I woke up this morning and he didn't get up. He had not been in pain; but, I knew he wasn't his self for the last year. Just old. My brain is broke. Every noise makes me think he is still but I know he is not. I am sad and a little in shock. I knew his time was near, he slept over 20 hours a day. I miss him already.
Monday, December 27, 2021
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