I've got my sixteenth birthday coming up June first and I'm going to make it, by gosh. I'm stubborn and I know I can do it. So today I started eating again and walking better. That didn't stop the 'grave' talk, though. Mom is going to dig it and fill it with a couple of potted plants. Like that's going to keep me from seeing it every time I pass by on the way to my pee pen. AND she made an appointment with the vet for tomorrow morning. I don't think it's for the big needle, no I really don't. But she told dad that she'd always wonder if there was something more going on than just my bad heart if she didn't take me.
I'm going to read up on that 'Rainbow Bridge' place where all dogs are suppose to go when we---shutter the thought!---die. Just in case it's true. I'll meet my adopted brother and sister up there, Mom says, who lived with my family before I came along and I might even be able to blog from the bridge until my replacement learns to type. I know Mom will get another four-legged child like me. I smelled schnauzer puppy breath on her last week.
I'm so depressed and Dad has a basset hound face every time he looks at me. I even saw a tear on Mom's cheek. The next time I blog, I'll try to get back to recording my childhood antics. I still have to write about my lipstick fetish and about the time a lion chased me. ©