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El chupacabra tomó mis pantalones

el Jesús grande de la mantequilla

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It was time. Goodbye, sweetie...
scruffy dog

Honey Darlene Weigert
September 9, 1990 - October 27, 2008

"your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by [her] worth, for then
It hath no end." - Shakespeare
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Very sorry to hear this. My condolences.

I saw this a few minutes after you first posted it, but debated saying anything.

See, I don't really embrace sentimentality.

At the same time, I understand grief really well, at least from a human standpoint.

So I won't disrespect the fact that you loved your dog. I love mine, too, and even though there are times when he does such awful things that I want to find him a new home, I know my world would break if I lost him.

One of my first dogs was hit by a vehicle on a boondock dirt-paved road. I was 11 or 12, and woke up hearing him yelping.

I spent most of the day hoping he would be okay, though he was clearly in pain. We figured out that he was bleeding internally, and my father took him out back. We were living on a dairy farm at the time.

I didn't tell my dad for a good decade, but I watched from the bathroom window when he took my dog out back with the shotgun and "put him down."

It hurt. The gun's shockwave was deafening and eternal. But even though I came to know it was the "right" thing, I never forgave my father for that.

Hrm. I suppose I'm saying that, be they animal or human, grief is grief. I'm not experiencing what you are, but I can tell you I've felt it, and I know your hurt.

May time be speedy in healing your wounds.

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