The pup.

So Sheffeild came into our lives unexpectedly, we had just moved to a new town, a new house we had convinced mom to finally go to the pound to “look” at dogs and think about it. We came home with Sheffeild, the humane society had already named him and we couldnt really figure out a better name so it stuck. On the ride home we were determined to keep him in the back of the truck, two seconds after this he was in the back seat with us and not a minute after that he was up front with Mom, and thats were he stayed for many years. He was her date on new years, keeping her company during her lonely years of raising us alone. After a while we decided to get another dog, and after a while found Abbey who would become the queen bee and would rule the roost. Sheffeild a 110 pound dog being dominated by a 20 lb feisty pup was definitely funny.

Over the years we would go on many adventures, swimming at the lake with the dogs and having Sheff pull us around the water with his tail. Little things that added up quickly to fond memories and twice as many things that we just look back on and laugh that definitly were NOT funny at the time. Like the box of swiss miss packets that they ate, the countless pork tenderloins he ate off the counter, the tray of brownies he daintily ate without a boo from his stomach. He was a shark in the kitchen and i still worry that when i am home he will come around and slobber over everything. We would push everything into the center of the island and thats where things still stay months later.

We could never really figure out how old Sheffeild was but knew he was aging quickly as big dogs do.

Sadly we had to put him to sleep because he could no longer walk as his spine was degenerating quite quickly and he was no longer able to function. That drive home to see him and the drive to the vet were probably the longest and most painful ones that i care to remember. For a while i felt bad because i couldnt remember the day we put him to sleep but now that i think about it believe it was easter or the day after on a weekend.

My aunt is a psychic in so many definitions of the word, and she said she had a talk of sorts with Sheffeild’s soul and said that he was much happier where he was and was a lot sicker than we knew.

I like to think that i am a realist and not a huge believer in the unknown/religion/paranormal but hearing that helped imensely in knowing that he was really suffering and it was our selfish need to hold on to our pup that was the only reason he was still going.

I also think that he lived a lot longer for my mom’s sake. He kept her company and now that she has met a human to love his time was up.

Our big lug i mean love.

Our big lug i mean love.

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