
This was a rough weekend. We lost both Blacky and Joey a day apart. Blacky was 18 in March and I think his kidneys just shut down. He died in his sleep at home with us checking on him, telling him we love him, and petting him frequently. Joey, 11, had been sick for five weeks, mysteriously not eating and having bloody diarrhea. Several of the neighbors have told us of similar experiences with their pets recently, too. I force fed him all that time and he would make just enough improvement that we kept trying. Finally, last Thursday, I took him in to the vet for the third time because something was wrong with his eye. We brought him home with some choices to make, but Joey's condition made it for us Sunday night and Monday morning when he had difficulty swallowing.
These two, as with all our pets, are already sorely missed. They are such characters and such a huge part of the family. The house is quite empty and poor Ellie has been lonesome for Joey since he first got sick. I don't know how God is going to find the room, but if Heaven is all that it is supposed to be, I'll be expecting to be greeted by all my pet family when I step inside.