It's been a rough few weeks. Back to back colds, our old cat having surgery, then having to have surgery again as she got infected, and then having to make the hard decision that is was time to let Miss Barkley go, at the grand old age of 15.5. She'd been getting progressively worse, stumbling went to falling, no desire to go for walks (not that she ever was much of a fan!), missing many food fall events, and taking a long time to eat. It was so hard, as still in the mornings she'd play like a puppy with your fingers, but her butt got lower and lower to the ground and it was obviously becoming hard for her. I'd always been told "you'll know when", but now i've been through it I don't think that's true. I think if we'd waited until we 'knew', we'd have waited to long. I didn't want her to get to the point of being in pain all the time, but it had got to the point of her having more bad times than good. Our wonderful vet came out to the house and helped us say goodbye, in front of the fire with a fistful of cookies. We already miss tripping over her every time we walk through the kitchen, as she was always there, ready for food fall. I feel pretty honored to have known Miss Barkley and had the opportunity to look after her retirement. She was a weird and yet amazing dog, so much personality rolled into a mix of fluff and growl. We did well together, we met Brandon, we had our little family (even before Dylan arrived), it'll be weird going on from here in Maine without her.
And then this happened the next day (planned that way so we could feel some joy again). His first birthday photos (we haven't seen them all, this is a "sneak peek"). Though timid at first, he warmed right up when the cake came out. Hard to believe our little monkey will soon be one.
