Saturday was a sad day. Pepper had been sick for a month, with her condition deteriorating to the point she was in misery. The vet had given her the best care possible, but because of her age, 17 years, Dr. Melanie said she could not stand anesthesia and surgery for the colon cancer, and the nasal passage obstruction was inoperable. It broke my heart to make the decision, but I had her put to sleep. I cried the rest of the day, and several times since. David came over and dug the grave for me--he is a good son--and he and Harold laid her to rest. Patti came by after work and we cried some more, and then we thanked God for allowing me to have her for so long.
I plan to get a memorial marker for her grave. She is buried near her mother, Bandit, her sister Keeta, and Jack's pet, Gary the Cat.
My next few posts will likely be some dog stories.
Hug your pets. They are too soon gone.
Grandma in the yellow house
Lois, pets are a "special" kind of wonderful! I am so glad that you had her for 17 years! I am sure she touched a lot of people lives being around that long. Sometimes our pets replace our children and it can be just as hard to let them go! Thinking of you! Pam
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