The Burns died this morning. It had been a while since he ate and he could barely hold his head up so we took him to the vet and made the decision. We've been prepared for a while, but we were still surprisingly unprepared. Sister Meg and I stayed n the room with our hands on him while they put the needle in and his faint little heartbeat stopped.
We buried him with all of his winter sweaters. In the garden, near the fountain he fell in repeatedly.
He was one goddamned weird, difficult little dog but I'll miss him all the rest of the days of my life.
