Yukon (my wolf-dog) not only made it through Furry Fiesta weekend, but he's still up and about and on the right side of the ground. I called the vet to get some antibiotics and he was amazed that such a big dog had made it to the age of 15. I know his death is inevitable and will happen sooner rather than later, but he's still happy and dishing out wolf-kisses, taking naps in the sun, and occasionally submitting to scritches and bellyrubs as he naps. I put his latest picture into scraps.

I really wish I had been able to go to Fiesta and I missed my friends, but I'm glad I stayed home to see him through. I've been trying to take it day by day, making his last days as comfortable and enjoyable as possible.