We lost our beloved "Boomer" boy on Father's Day. He was 12-years-old, and he had been our lovable and protective dog for almost 8 of those years.
It was a hard day. Brett buried him while I bathed the boys and put them to bed. We told Jameston about it and he cried so hard. We all did. We showed him the spot where Boomer was buried, and that seemed to help him understand and cope. He said the sweetest things, like, "Did the angels or animals carry him up and up and up to heaven?" And "I will bring him his favorite stick one day when we see him again."
Our boys sure loved him and miss him. One of Blake's first words was "doggie."
Of course, Jameston LOVED Boomer him to pieces, since he's been our dog since before JW was born. He liked to "help" wash him and play fetch with him in the morning and at night after dinner. He said, "I have an idea: God will give him more breathing in heaven." So sweet!
I tear up again just typing this, because dogs really are a man's best friend.
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