So, my dad woke me up at five this morning to tell me that my favorite childhood dog had died during the night (the elderly pug I mentioned in a journal last year), probably from a pulmonary embolism. So, I spent the pre-dawn hours mixed between shock, grieving for her, comforting my distraught mother (she was the one the dog was bonded too) and helping my dad dig a grave in the backyard. Not a pleasant morning.

We new this day was coming. Her health had been steadliy deteriorating over the last year, so we'd figured she probably wouldn't live through 2012. But still, no-one can ever be truly ready for something like this to happen.

I'm fine, though. Heartbroken, but I know she had a good life and she passed away quickly and easily with the master she loved. So I don't have any regrets.

RIP Puggy-Sue (2001-2012) We'll miss you.