I've been a little sad the past couple of days. Mom and Dad took the cat to the vet. I didn't see him when they brought him home, but Mom explained they buried him up on the hill beside Jett, Callahan and Taz. Mom told me not to go up there and I think I'll listen to her on this one.
Mom told me I'd be the last dog to go on the hill. I wasn't too sure what she meant at the time, but she was sad when she told me. So I've been listening closely to Mom and Dad talk, and I think I have it figured out.
I know that one day I'll get old, and I'll be tired, and it'll be time for me to go. Dogs know these things and we know it's ok. Mom's have a hard time with it. I think cats must get old and tired, too. I know Shooter was old. He told me in no uncertain terms he was too old to take any puppy nonsense from me.
Maybe I should have been nicer when he slept in my puppy daybed. Mom said he wasn't hurting a thing by taking a nap in it when I wasn't using it, but I barked at him anyway.
I think Shooter was ready to go, and Mom and Dad made sure it was easy for him. They said he's beside his best friend, Jett, who I never met. They say Callahan and Taz were buddies, too.
Mom promised as soon as I'm done growing and know how to be 'easy' I can get a kitten of my own. I think Mom will be over being sad about Shooter by then. Having my own cat will be a big responsibility. It'll be up to me whether or not we're going to be friends because I'll be the older, bigger one.
I think I can do it because I'm Deuce! I'm a good dog!