When I was in highschool my dog died (just old age). She was a great dog, extremely loyal, always happy to see me.
I came home from school and she had crawled under the sofa and died.
It was sad in that when I though about it, she spent most of her life alone, waiting for me to come home.
But, she was 14, so I'd known she was getting there. She lost her vision and bladder control the day before.
It didn't really bother me much. For a few days, I kept expecting to see her coming down the stairs when I got home, only to realize she was gone.
I dunno, I'm pretty self-centered, though. Not that I dont feel anything, I just dont get overwhelmed.






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It must have been about five years ago now. Although he wasn't my dog I used to take him for walks and play with him in the back garden. I couldn't eat Twix chocolate bars for years because Tracey (my friend) used to give him his medicine in a small chunk of said chocolate, and it just made me sad. 



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