Well, shit.
Aug. 10th, 2008 11:55 amMy mom’s 17-year-old weenie dog (whom I had previously immortalized in this macro) has died. She finally said “enough of this shit” and stopped eating and drinking earlier this week; Mom had made the appointment to have her put to sleep, but she saved them the trouble and went on her own. She was buried in her stinky blankie, with her fifty million chew bones, in the garden with the little St. Francis statue watching over her.
So long, Teeny Weeny.
Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.