The first time I saw it was a bit bittersweet. We found out from the vet that my girl, Rhubarb, was terminally sick with cancer. The day it happened, I was in bed, doped to the gills myself, and waiting to go to the hospital to have a corrupt, Blue-Screen-Of-Death gall bladder yanked. I heard one of the members of our dogpile - Scrat, a mini Dachshund - screeching in the back yard like she was being boiled in oil. The
kitten cornered her at the fence, and she was petrified. In the melee, even Rhubarb reanimated herself and shot out the door like a bottle rocket. Then I hear my wife screeching (which is enough to drive one to divorce and celibacy). I ran outside doubled over to see what the hell was going on, and there was this........writhing mass of dog butts sticking up to the sky, going at something like it was a steak bone. Rhubarb suddenly broke free, with this limp, thoroughly chewed-up cat in her jaws, trotting and prancing around the yard like she was a show pony, and damned proud of herself, at that. All those years of giving them hell through a chain link fence, and just days before she leaves us, she scratches 'kitty snack' off her bucket list. LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: for men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away, for his name is Obama."
Now that was a good death.
[Viking reference, ya know]
Such a sad story but full of Norse fighting spirit...except for the mini-Dox....;D