Dear Precious Mercedez:
When we went for our walk today, you YAWNED. I couldn't believe it.
Walking was always your favorite pastime. I looked at you and realized you were tired - aging and BONE tired. It was hot outside and you wanted the coolness of your room.
Was it that long ago when I came home from work, you would run in circles with great anticipation of a walk? Didn't matter what the weather was like -- didn't matter if it was dinner time. What mattered was Mom was home and you could now go for a walk. Weekends were even more exciting. Weekends meant a trip in the Jeep to the mountain where you could run until you were ready to collapse. The last time I took you on one of those runs, three wolves crossed our path and I decided we would rethink this weekend trek.
Then
it happened. I came home from work one day and the throw rugs in the entry way were askew. When I walked into the kitchen, the rugs in there were in a pile. What on earth happened? And where were you? You didn't come running to the door, leash in your mouth, tail wagging.