My dog died literally three days before I got home last December
.I had a dream about him last night
.I miss that stupid fucker
.So I just went through all my old pictures of him, cried a bit, and now you get the photo-dump.
dem baby-blue deer-brown eyes.
dat alfred hitchcock face
see, petey was a rescue dog.
a purebred dalmation - and his mother was less than a year old.
and when he was born, he came out legs first.
...at which point his mother chewed them off.
It's not like he was unhappy. He never knew any different.
If anything, all the doting on him for his condition turned him into the biggest snugglebug of all time.
(That would be Snickerdoodle, my former neighbour's dog.)
He loved my cat, Awwdabooboo.
He got along with every animal we've ever had and traveled so very well.
That would be Woody, my Jack Russell/Beagle mix, who is still alive and still a pain in the ass.
And that's Simba, a dog both me and Petey grew up with. He was still a puppy, even after he had been shot, even after he had been hit by a car, right up until he died a few years ago at 14. Petey and Simba played together all the time as puppies, and I miss them both terribly.
At least they're together now.