She was a good dog

The death of a pet is always hard, but it's even harder when it's an unexpected death. Our dog died suddenly yesterday morning, apparently due to massive internal bleeding. The vet thought it might have been a ruptured spleen, but would need an autopsy to find out. Since our dog hadn't birthed any puppies, we didn't need to know to protect any future generation, so we declined the autopsy so that we could have her intact to bury at home.

We are still reeling with shock, which amplifies the sadness.

Despite my occasional grumbles about her, our dog was exceptionally smart. English shepherds are bred for intelligence and bidability rather than for some superficial exterior trait, and she lived up mostly to their reputation. She was a great frisbee dog (I regret never having taped a footage of her catching frisbees) and could tackle an opossum fearlessly. She could also chase down rabbits and eat one in 3 bites. She was both a good guard dog and companion.

Heckuva way to end a year.

The dog at 8 weeks old when we first brought her home.

We'll miss you, Gali.

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." ~ Douglas Adams