Snoop was 14 and my brother’s dog before he moved and we took over his ninety-year-old house here South of Central Downtown in Huntington Park. My brother had to put her to sleep, she was in a lot of pain and the doctor said that the $5,000 cancer surgery wouldn’t guarantee that she would live another day. Plus on top of that, the vet said there were probably other cancers based on the MRI.
This is Coco, he is 11 or 12 (my brother cannot recall exactly – he had a large brood of dogs at one time all from one mother). Coco is the grandson of my brother’s original bitch (love the chance to use that word correctly). The reason I am writing this is that Snoop has been gone now for six days and I think I hear Coco crying his dog cry out there – it is a whimper as he breathes and then a yelp, one I have not heard among his vocabulary – and it is making me almost cry.
I think he realized that she is not coming back. I feel his alone-ness.
Is it wrong to surf the internet sites of the city shelters looking for a girl dog to bring home to my boy dog? It seems both primitive and yet totally right.