Goodbye, Sadie Girl

Some goodbyes are just painful, very painful.  Even when you know it's best, and the suffering will end, it's still painful.  It's painful, and I'm a wuss.  The day has come that we must take our faithful old dog, Sadie to be put to sleep.  She's 14 years old, she's in pain, she's deaf, and it's so hard to see her suffer.

She was the cutest, fuzziest little puppy.  She was a good mama to her litters, and I always marveled that such a pretty dog as she was, could produce such a hilarious offspring as one little pup whom we named Blue.  

Sadie was gentle, yet fiercely protective of us.  No one got near the kids if Sadie thought they were being a threat.  She was a regular Houdini of an escape artist.  Countless times we would come home to find her outside the fence and enjoying her freedom.  She was as fast as a race dog when she saw us coming, and she was through the fence, and in the pen, sitting there looking so innocent.

She could hear us coming down the road, and if she was in the fence, she met us at the gate.  Now she can't hear when we go outside, and as she lays there by the back door, she won't even budge until she sees us.  Then she struggles to get up, and she cries in pain.  She no longer barks, because her world is quiet.  

Goodbye, Sadie girl.  You've been a great dog.  You loved us unconditionally, even when we were unworthy of your love.