I came in late last night, Bo, and was glancing at my stock message boards when I ran across your reprint of the email from Rash that you posted. I didn't get it until the end that this was Rash's dog and not yours. I was reading along and somewhere in the middle of the third paragraph I was so teary eyed that I couldn't read anymore but I managed to use my wiper's to finish the story. Every dog like every man ends up the same way. Dead.

I have a malmute wolf cross... wouldn't go through it with another but she's a pretty massive dog, impressive in both size and attitude. I keep her out in the country since she found our McDonalds garbage can. I can remember the day the police called and asked me to come down and get her. She was guarding it, even from the McDonalds employee's. Still, I don't mind much that she see's everything in terms of it's food value. One thing is sure and that is if I actually out live her she will have left a multitude of tales to tell.

I have lost a lot of dogs but I guess that this is because I have never been without a dog or three. Not for a single year or even a day. In putting them all into some perspective it seems to me that I have had the same dog, just many different times and in different coats. It's like the same dog just keeps coming back. I like knowing that. That steadiness of friends, that lasting tether.

Anyway, Rash, if you are out there I hope that old Doc has come back to you and yours again. And Bo, don't tell anymore sad bedtime stories, okay? *w*