My dog was put down today, been getting choked up and crying all day. Even while I'm typing this, I'm thinking about him and how great of a dog he was and I'm just trying to keep the tears in.
I've had him since I was about 6 (I'm 18 right now), so he's been with me most of my life. Best dog I could ever ask for, really. He's a german shepherd btw.
I still remember when we first got him, back in 2001. Mean little thing. I remember the second day we had him, he pretty much mauled me. Biting me, jumping all over me. He wasn't really trying to hurt me (at least, I don't think he was), but I remember being a little scared of him for a while, lol. Man, if only I could go back to those days.
I remember one time when he was still a puppy, my dad grilled us some steaks, and he jumped on the table, grabbed someone's steak, and ran away with it, lol.
He calmed down as he grew up, and he was just an amazing companion.
Sadly, he had joint problems his whole life and had to deal with a lot of pain. Still, he was a happy dog most of the time.
Towards the end, his joints only got worse, and I knew he was just in more and more pain everyday. It was hard to see him suffer, but it was even harder for me to come to grips with that it was time. I finally realized that we'd be doing him a favor by putting him down when I was petting him, and he just looked at me with these big, sad eyes, and that's when I accepted it. As sad as this is, it's also a relief, because now he doesn't have to hurt anymore.
Last night (obviously, before we had him put down), I went out and sat with him for a while. I was just crying like a baby, I couldn't help it.
He's buried now, under a post with his collar hanging on it.
Rest in peace, Dirk.
I'm gonna miss you.