In the last few days i could see the end was near. His fragile body was limp and his unforgettable perky ears lost their perkyness. His wagging tail could not motivate him to come and say hi as he always used to do.

I couldn’t bear to seem him this way.

The poor little fellow wouldn’t even play anymore.

It was hard for him to get up every morning, to not have improved any bit.

Until one day when he was sleeping, i slipped the scrawngy, dirtied, and old raggy squeaker toy out from under him one night, in preperation to tommarow’s annual trip to Petco.