They honored the fact that he didn't like to be carried by letting him walk back to us and stand on his own while she injected him with the drug. He sank back on his haunches and relaxed, probably pain free for the first time in many years.
We sooo miss him and one night I heard him bark when the doorbell rang, even though he wasn't there. Hopefully he and Abby are somewhere fighting like they always did.
|It's bad when you're short and can't|
see out the window..
|In his sporty racing jacket. After all, a Florida bulldog|
gets cold in Colorado.
|He was my buddy during nursing school. He and I used to sit|
in the sun on the front porch and study...he studied the traffic and
I studied med surg.
|Bubba's tongue was a tad longer than his face.|
|With his BMOC sweater on-sitting in the sun.|
|He and his sister in one of their more peaceful moments.|