I had to put my dog to sleep today. She was approximately 15 years old (I honestly don't know for sure) and a tumor the size of a tennis ball in her that had grown to the point where she couldn't produce enough red blood cells to sustain her body. I'm more sad about it than I thought I would be.

People that know me well would know I'd be lying if I said Bailey was like my child. I dare say I didn't even like her that much at first. She originally belonged to my girlfriend turned ex-wife. She was skittish and submissive. She had accidents in the house all the time. She was inconsolable during any fireworks show or thunderstorm. She was pretty annoying. This was about 10 years ago. When my ex and I split up in 2004, she left Bailey behind. I only mention this to emphasize the point that Bailey was kind of forced upon me. I made a standing offer that I would send Bailey to her once she got settled. After a while, I came to grips with the fact Bailey was now my dog.

Bailey was the last real remnant of my whirlwind past. She's been in my life for 10 years. She made the full circle with me from Myrtle Beach, to Chicago, to San Diego, to Seattle, and back to Myrtle Beach. She rode shotgun in the moving truck when I drove from Seattle in just three days. She helped me keep my sanity during that trip. In exchange for her attentive ear during my punch drunk stories and bad singing, I shared with her the joys of truck stop beef jerky.

Once things got settled at the Beach, she really came out of her shell. I finally figured out that she wouldn't have accidents in the house if she was taken out at least 3 times day. I'd let her out the back door and she'd do her business before coming straight back. Unless it was a nice day out and she'd meander around for a few extra minutes pretending to hunt squirrels. I never worried about her leaving the yard. She never was much for walks or fetch, which was fine by me. She did wrestle around and play a bit of tug when coaxed into it. She stayed off the couch if there was a nice doggy bed nearby. She would never, ever snap a treat from your hand- you practically had to drop them to give them to her. She loved stuffed animals and she's the first dog I've seen that wouldn't chew them to bits. She was much happier to rub her face on them and trot them from bed to bed around the house.

In other words, she turned out to be the best dog I could ask for. She was a good dog.