You weren’t perfect. Did you have to snap at my sister? What was it with bald men, Epsom salts, and towels on the floor? Remember the tomato salad and the angel food cake?
Still, you had some great qualities. You were sweet, protective, loving, goofy, and full of energy, even at 11 years old. Some of the cats even liked you.
We soften what happened by using words like “put down” or “euthanize”. We did it because we didn’t want you to suffer. We had to do it, and we’re so sorry.
Who will walk with me every day? Who will bark at other dogs, beg for treats, dribble water on the floor, pee on my son’s bed, growl while being brushed, and shed... constantly.
It’s kind of ironic that the animal hospital gave us a little vial containing your fur with a pretty ribbon on it. Now we have that little vial in an honored place and, of course, we’ll keep it always.
I just hope you understand and can forgive us. Here’s to 10 wonderful years of a crazy, unpredictable, funny, stubborn, squirrel-chasing, broccoli-eating, sofa-hogging mutt. Here’s to you Lonnie, the perfect non-perfect dog.
Paula Podgurski
Stanhope