Gilmore, my little old man, crossed the rainbow bridge last week. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I went out of town to a conference. I came back late last Saturday night. My sister in another town was taking care of my dogs when I was gone. I had to go to her town about an hour away on Monday, so I waited to pick them up. She called me early Monday morning and told me that Gilmore had died. He had a long seizure and his little body just gave out. I am so greatful that she was with him. She never gets up in the middle of the night. For some reason, she woke up and felt like she had to go downstairs. When she did, she found him seizing. She held him in her arms for a long time and he passed. I know that it was probably best for him. He was old, blind, toothless, and his back legs were weak.
I just got him about two years ago. He had been dumped. He was very fearful and didn't want to be held. Eventually he responded to love and became a real snuggler. I really miss holding him in my arms as he nuzzled me. He was such a sweet boy.
