|One last smile for his daddy.|
Tank took a turn for the worse yesterday morning. I knew it was his time. He probably would've died on his own the next day but we didn't want him to suffer. He meant too much to us for that.
We adopted him ten and half years ago from a rescue group. He was a lanky two-year old with a head too big for his body. Oh, but how we grew to love him. You couldn't help but fall in love with him.
Although his very appearance could scare the bejeebers out of you when you first encounter him, he was the sweetest, kindest, and most compassionate soul you could ever meet.
He was first and always Greg's boy. I'm so glad he hung on until Greg retired. They had many plans for midday naps and raiding the pantry for snacks. I wish they could've done more of that.
It's eerily quiet at my house. Tank was the quiet one but for some reason all the other dogs have suddenly gone silent. No one is barking or rabble-rousing. Each of them have taken turns sleeping on Tank's bed, even Nana, who prefers to nap from the high perch of the couch.
It's as if they're grieving too, or maybe they're sensing our immense sadness. It's hard for me to even grasp the words to describe our heartache.
Tank was the best of dogs and he's left a giant hole in our hearts. He lived far longer than anyone expected despite being riddled by tumors and severe arthritis. A trooper to the end. Happy until the end.
Rest now, my baby, and wait for us.
|Everyone is keeping vigil with Tank until it's time for us to go to the vet.|