A Sad Day

Last night, our dog Roscoe passed away peacefully in his sleep. I found him this morning, lying on the basement floor. I thought he was sleeping soundly, but... He was gone.

As soon as I found Roscoe, I called Matt. Matt came right home and took care of everything. I'm so glad he was here. I don't know what I would have done without him.


Even though Roscoe was twelve years old, it still took me completely by surprise. Roscoe had such a good week. He was just starting to settle in to the new place. He had the new layout figured out, and the dog door mastered. He had been going on walks with us around the neighborhood, was enjoying sunning himself on the deck, and had been working on a new rawhide bone. He had such a good week. There wasn't any sign at all of what was going to happen this morning. I really didn't see it coming. None of us did.

Frankie seems to be handling the news pretty well. She's sad, of course. Roscoe had just started sleeping in her room, and she had just begun to take on some dog-related responsibilities like holding his leash during our walks and fixing his dinner. I think in a lot of ways Frankie was closer to Roscoe than she was to Milton. So, my guess is that his death is going to affect her more strongly. Time will tell.

Me? I'm really sad. But I'm also thankful that Roscoe didn't have to go through what Milton did. I suppose the way he died is the best way possible... Quietly in his sleep, no suffering. As time passses, that will comfort me more and more. Right now, though, I'm just overwhelmed at how quiet and empty the house seems.