Today we had to say goodbye to one of our dogs, Reggie, who has been a part of the family for 14 years.
I posted this on Instagram while we were waiting to take him to the vet:
Reggie showed up in our neighborhood when I was still in high school, and quickly became my dog. When I left home to go to college, he stayed with the family. When I started working and had my own place, he stayed with the family. When my wife and I moved in together and got a dog of our own, he stayed with the family.
Two and a half years ago, when my wife and I moved back into the family home, Reggie followed us back to our room at bedtime on the very first night and has slept there since.
Even though he’d been living without me for almost ten years, he was still my dog.
Today we are saying goodbye to Reggie. He’s been in pain for a long while, and it’s time to let him go.
But it’s hard, because when I drove home to say goodbye to him one last time today, he still wagged his tail when I came through the door.
Reggie is a very good dog, and he’s my dog. I love him very, very much, and I’ll miss him.
The trip to the vet was pretty quick. My wife and I were both there, along with one of my brothers and my parents. The vet gave him a sedative to make sure he was calm, then about ten minutes later administered the drug that let him go. He passed quickly and peacefully, with all of us giving him treats and pets and affection and praise.
He was a good dog who had a good life and made my life better.
Good boy, Reggie.
Goodbye.
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