So we had to bury my brother's dog today (Friday).
My brother's Dalmatian, Penny, who we've had since she was a puppy, died today. She was 13. My brother's 25 now, and he got her when he was just 12, I was 16. Since my brother moved out into a duplex, he hasn't been able to have his dogs with him. So I've been taking care of them. Tuesday, I gave her a bath and washed out her kennel. Then Wednesday night I went to let her out so she could go outside to go pee and poop. She wouldn't get up. So we called my brother over. I got her out and she walked around a little outside, but something was definitely wrong with her. She wouldn't eat her food, which was really the first real sign something was wrong. Dalmatians have crazy appetites, so you know if they don't want to eat that they're not well. Despite being a medium sized breed, they're very muscular dogs, and pound for pound are very strong. Anyway, she wouldn't eat. Thursday we took her to the vet to get her checked out. Basically they said her kidneys were failing. So we got her some anti-biotic, an IV drip for fluids, and some Zantec, because the vet said she likely was ulcerated. The vet said she didn't think she'd make it. Yesterday afternoon we came home and she had passed away. My brother and I buried her Friday afternoon at my mom's house.
She was officially my brother's dog, but I had always loved her like my own. We had so much fun playing with her. She was coolest dog. I can't believe she's gone. We lost my dad to colon cancer in 1998, and Penny was the last pet we owned that had known him. My brother says that with Penny gone, the last bit of his childhood is gone now.
Penny, chilling on the bed with my cat, Mittens. Mittens is gone now too. He died 3 years ago next month. Penny and Mittens were pals.
