My dad's dog had to be put down tonight. My sister called to tell me. Mixed feelings. She was an old dog. Seventeen years. I've never known an older dog. She lived a long life and it was a good one. But of course, I miss her and I hate losing someone that I love.
The sadder thing is that it felt like Kayla was the last connection to my dad. Having her around was almost like Pop was still around. Now, it's like a portal has closed. A relationship has been severed. And I miss my dad more.
sigh
Kayla was a great dog. Part Chow, part husky. Proctective of the family but so gentle with all the grandchildren. I have photos of Emma, months old, near Kayla. She never snapped at Em or my nephews when they were too rough with her tail. Always corralled them when they were over zealous in the backyard. Even in her senior years, she allowed my nephews to be handsie with her without a nip or growl.
Kayla, Thank you for years of protection, love and fun. You were an amazing dog and I am ever so happy that you are with Pop now. I love you, puppy!
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