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So my best friend Hyde, my dog, had been getting old. At 12 and a half, he was showing his age. Yesterday he wouldn't even lift his head. Usually when I shoot squirrels out my back door with the Red Ryder he freaks out. Yesterday he just laid there and watched me. Thats when I decided then he wasn't the boy I've known all these years and it was time for him to go.

Luckily, I have a large group of racist friends and a bunch if them came over to hang out with us and say goodbye. After the paw prints were pressed, I carried him out to the garage in his bed so my buddy Mike could do it for me. I'm a bitch like that. After I gently placed him into a predug hole out back I covered him with dirt and Bob said a prayer. I balled like a woman.

Later in the day, another friend was on the phone and said he didn't know what he was going to do about his dog that needed to be put down. We offered to go to him but he didn't have the yard to bury her. I told him to bring her and his family to my house and we would do it for him. Same story...hole, dirt, prayer.

Then we had our own firework show in the street. It was hard to be sad then.

Now I'm sitting in my garage with 2 crosses, made from cedar, woodburned and stain still drying drinking beer with tears in my eyes.

I miss that little fucker so much but I know he can't live forever. Doesn't make the pain any less.

I'm just happy they went on the 4th because gunshots are indistinguishable from mortars when city limits matter when discharging a firearm.

Edit: he also couldn't walk and hadn't eaten in 2 weeks. I wouldn't have made the call if I wasn't sure he was done.