My first baby is gone. After nine years Brooklyn had begun to injure herself terribly whenever she was left alone. Attempts to find her a new home were unsuccessful, and even the Weimaraner rescue advised that she be put down. The girls took her to the rescue's veterinarian Friday. I don't think they understand yet that she is really gone, and both of them want to know when we can get another dog.
In more exciting news I got rear-ended right after they dropped the dog off at the vet, and had to leave the band at church for awhile. Last week sucked.
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