I had my dog put to sleep yesterday, and I feel glad. I'm glad that he was able to be part of the family for five weeks short of fifteen years, which is phenomenal for a dog with German Shepherd in his blood. And I feel privileged that he lived with me for just over his last seven years. As always, on his last day, he placed his trust in me. Typically, he wasn't happy to be at the vet. As he lay on the table, he worked his way off the edge and into my arms. That's where he died. Today, every time I'd get out of my chair, I'd look over at his favorite spot, expecting him to be looking up at me. I'd do that out of habit because I'd generally tell him to 'stay'. In earlier times, that would be because it was unnecessary for him to be following me around the house. Lately, it'd be because I wanted to save the stress on his old bones. I can make the adjustment because I know I did what was right for him. Yesterday, I felt good once all was said and done. http://www.brewerfan.net/images/staffpix/casey_shepherd.jpg