He was the watcher in the night, ready to do anything to protect this kid.

He'd sleep alright if we were awake, but even if we feigned sleep to test him, he'd rouse, ready to be on-call.

This dog would do anything for you.

Anyway, he had been slowing down since winter, and a few months ago developed a hairless patch that the vets were mystified by. They wanted to scrape skin, etc etc, and we demurred.

A week ago, he developed ear pain on one side. Again, the vet was of no help.

I suspect now it was probably cancer.

Anyway, Monday he would not eat, and then when we were watching a movie on TV he went to lie in the kitchen, apart from us. It was entirely out of character, because his ideal spot is right in the mix, trying to be physically touched by all family members at the same time.

Before sleep, I went to let him out to pee. He didn't stand, seemed sleepy, so I cradled him and carried him outside. I set him on the yard and he wobbled a little.

I was scared, and didn't mention this to my son. But I did decide to keep him in my bed overnight -- a rarity. As I lay next to him, he felt cool to touch. Around 2AM my son puttered into our room and asked to collect his dog. "I want him," he said. I groggily assented.

I went into their room around 630 the next morning, and the dog had passed away, curled against his master.

I collected him, wrapped him, and then had to wake my son.

I told him that somehow, in some miraculous way, our dog woke him in the middle of the night from the other room and communicated that he needed his boy - that he could not go until he was with his boy. He had protected him all these years and now needed his protection to pass on.

Brothers, I cried that morning.

What a GOOD BOY that dog was. This morning I woke up and instead of walking him, I just walked the neighborhood and saw all the dog walkers, half of them staring at their phones.

Dogs are 180000000000000000 and you should hug yours today and give him some hamburger or something.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5545684&forum_id=2/#47779559)

i cant believe i wasted so many empty years as a NODOGFAG.

its like youre not even alive if a dog doesnt love you.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5545684&forum_id=2/#47779617)

Ingredients

Meat

1 small or medium-sized dog, humanely slaughtered, skinned, and cleaned

Marinade

1 cup vinegar

3 tbsp salt

6 cloves garlic, crushed

20 spicy Thai peppers

3 tomatoes, puréed

3 cups lemon juice

Procedure

Cut dog up into about 12–16 large pieces.

In a food processor, blend together all the marinade ingredients.

Combine the dog pieces and marinade in a large container. Let marinate for at least 2 hours in the fridge.

Put dog pieces on a charcoal grill, cover, and let it cook over warm coals. Flip and baste occasionally for about 1 hour or until meat is tender.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5545684&forum_id=2/#47779607)

2. beyond that, I come down on "minimal vet care". Ime, vets are crooked as hell and I learned the hard way. When the dog was a puppy, I was doing a routine visit and when it came time to leave they handed me a bill for like 600. Shit you not, one of the itemizations was stimulating his anal gland or something. Its what dogs do for themselves when they scoot along on their butt.

Every vet visit I did, they were upselling nonstop. I paid my share, but was determined that he would live as a dog, not a white-woman-fur-baby.

Im only speculating now, but I imagine had they caught whatever caused the death, here's how it might have gone:

- bring him to vet (he hated the place and would shiver and hide under chair in the office)

- anesthetize him

- leave him a day or more away from family & home

- do something invasive with needles, scalpels, remove deep level skin

- he wakes up alone on metal table

- staple him

- drug the shit out of him

- make him wear cone for 10 days as staples heal

- All to say, "we determined cancerous growth, we recommend $5k surgery, chemo, etc... which will keep him alive months longer, and will require return visits every 28 days"

As it is, his only pain was the one day with his ear, and he lived his final weeks with family, taking long walks, standing in the pacific ocean, smelling all kinds of interesting stuff along the paths, and dying in bed.

I think it was the right call... but Idk. I guess it would have been different if he were in a lot of pain and I ignored vets

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5545684&forum_id=2/#47780554)

anyway, he's bragging about you to all the angels and saints rn.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5545684&forum_id=2/#47780644)