Barbara and I had barely been married a year when we took a trip down to local Dumb Friends League in search of a dog. It was heart wrenching seeing the various signs announcing the "expiration date" of each animal. We eventually settled on a Lab/Akita mix, originally named Tanner, renamed by us: Shelby.
Shelby was a wonderful dog. Though I'm allergic to most animals, Shelby rarely set off an my symptoms. He was great with the children and he could snore with the best of us. I'm speaking in the past tense because last week Shelby died after 15 wonderful years of life.
It happened so fast. He began howling with pain around 11pm. By the time I got him to the vet he couldn't walk so we wheeled him in on a gurney. And before I knew it I was back in my bed staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how to tell my six children that they only dog they have ever known was dead.
Describing death to six children ages three to ten is no easy task…especially when I'm not sure I've come to grips with what happened to our first adoption…
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