Good Boy

Yesterday my mom had her second dog, Willis, put to sleep. On January 8th, she had to let the first dog, Maxine go. They were both 14 years old. Maxine and Willis were littermates.

Anyone who has ever lost a pet knows how tough this is. They give us so much love and don’t really ask for much in return.

I’m feeling pretty rough about this, myself. I haven’t lived with my parents for over ten years, but I was there when Maxine and Willis were puppies. Hell, I was there for the first trip Mom took to see them after they were born. She and Maxine were basically best friends from the moment Maxine opened her eyes. Willis, my brother and I helped pick out. He was the most adorable, clumsy, doofy puppy out of the bunch.

Willis was the most adorable, clumsy, doofy dog when he grew up, too. He and Maxine were always there when I visited my parents. I’m going to miss them. They were both good dogs. In the end, that’s the best thing you can say about a dog, isn’t it? Simple, wonderful words for simple, wonderful little beings.

Good dogs.