My dog Rocky had to be put down in 1997. My ex-husband did it without my permission and without telling me ahead of time. I came home from work and found Rocky gone. From his food dish, I grabbed the last bit of food he hadn’t eaten, and I kept it. Some tufts of Rocky’s fur I found, where he slept and I kept that, too. When I moved from Ohio to Utah, I brought both items with me. Some robber is going to be sorely disappointed someday when they grab my jewelry box as they break in, only to find some dried up dogfood and black fur in it.
I carried that dog home in the pocket of my winter coat, as a pup. He was The Dog You Weren’t Supposed To Choose of the litter. He was the smallest, the most skittish, the most shy. He ended up as a huge black dog, with a tiny tuft of white, who was almost more wolf than dog. When the baby came along, this gentle giant was fiercely protective and suspicious of anyone who looked at my son “the wrong way.” He also taught our son his first word, which was not Mom or Dad. It was “woof.” Rocky (a mutt of German Shepherd, Grand Pyranees, and black Labrador) even made friends with the kid’s chicken. A hen named Rhoda. LOL He used to let her sit on his back when the snapping turtles came onshore. Picture this huge black dog growling and barking at snapping turtles with a white hen relaxing on his back. Funniest. Thing. Ever.
Love? I dunno.
Maybe I need to run my anti-virus or something, though. My screen is all messed up. Blurry for some strange reason...
You just gave the best reason I have ever heard to dump a husband.
My mom also put down my childhood dog without every telling me she was going to do it. He wasn't even ill. I came home from school one day and he was gone. I never forgave her.