Back to the vet this morning.  Squig has been up during the night for the last three nights.  It is kinda like the second coming of Christ, I know he is coming some day, just don’t know exactly when.  Squig is 14+ years which is 98+ in people years.  I know what’s coming.  He isn’t in pain, he’s just tired.  He’s almost done I am afraid.  What will I do without him?  I’ve never loved an animal before.  It is painfully poignant. 

We’ve got a little more time.  He just doesn’t seem to want anything I offer him to eat.  Brown rice, lo-fat cottage cheese;  He eats a bite of white chicken every now and then.  There will be animals in heaven.  Jesus is coming on a white horse.  Squig can eat anything he wants in heaven.

The road will be lined with fruit trees and we will all eat them in season.  And then, there is the tree of life.

Death is what we all want to escape.  We want to live with our loved ones and the Lord forever.  And the dogs who have been our faithful companions here on earth.  They love us, too.  And ask so little of us.  All Squig wants is to sleep on my lap and have his back scratched.  (And sleep under the covers at night.)  This may go on for awhile.  Bear with me.  I won’t let him suffer.  No.