The following words were written by a client just before he said goodbye to his sweet dog, Miggie. We are truly grateful for his willingness to share his heart with us. We hope anyone experiencing loss can find comfort in his story.
 |
My first dog was Pal, a rat terrier, sort of a miniature dachshund but not. I was nine. I still remember him. But while I was away at Boy Scout Camp he got sick. The vet told us there was nothing they could do. I held out for several days, hoping he would get better. Finally, my dad came and said, “He is hurting. We won't do anything unless you say. But he is not going to get better.” I said, “Okay.” Friend of my dad took Pal. I cried for a week, sobbing. I knew it was disturbing the rest of the family so I would go down in the basement, there was a bedroom there, and bawl. Finally my dad came down and said it was time to accept Pal being gone like a man.