My bulldog died yesterday. We have had her since she was a pup. She was raised with our kids and was a part of the family. I knew she would be with us forever, but when i left for work last month i never dreamed i wouldn't ever see her again. She was my mutt. I called her a fat b***h all the time. I work in the oil field and stay gone for months at a time. She died at the vets office. It killed my wife. She was around ten years old. But she was healthy as a horse. I haven't been able to think straight since last night. It is seriously killing me knowing that when i get home she won't be there to give me 5. It was one of our things. Lol. My wife would say that she acted depressed while i was gone. When i would get home it was usually a hug from my daughter, my wife always there waiting for a hug and kiss, but my mutt would get her fat lazy a*s up and waddle in the kitchen to me to give me 5. So my wife would always have to wait until my mutt said hello. I feel sorry for whoever you are that took the time to read all this lol. What is killing me the most is i wasn't there for the last month of her life, and i wasn't there to say goodbye to her.
I never thought in a million years that a damn dog would have such an impact on my life. But Roxy was more then a dog .she was my mutt