Bosco died today around 1pm.
Amy doesn't know for sure what it was he died from, maybe a ruptured blood vessel, or a bleeding disorder that Dobermans sometimes get. She looked for evidence of rat bait as the symptoms are similar but she couldn't find evidence of anything like that. We don't leave our dogs out to bark constantly (though they do bark when they are out which has been a source of contention with one neighbor in particular) so we don't think he was poisoned. But I'm still going to tell the neighbors around here just in case, including the nasty one next door as I am not so heartless to wish harm on their dog even if he is a grouchy old bastard.
He was a good, good dog, and we are both filled with regret that we weren't nicer to him; he was constantly underfoot, generated some seriously bad smells, and liked to stick his nose in your face when you sat in the living room. But he was also sweet, affectionate, loving, and loyal. And he let the baby grab his fur with her little grippy fingers anytime she wanted. He had a hard life before we got him and we like to think that he was pretty happy here with his other dog friends. I have fond memories of taking him to the park and one time to the beach -- during a storm -- what fun! He ran like a racehorse chasing the gulls, miles and miles, deliriously happy.
We asked Amy to throw a few kibbles into his grave when she buries him on their property down there -- food was his reason for living.
RIP, big fella. Hope the squirrels in dog heaven are fat and lazy.
Okay, that's it. I can't take any more sadness and loss right now. No more, you hear me?!
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