So today the flower shop delivers a single yellow rose addressed to Dad. He wasn't home but mom opened up the card and it said "thinking of you" from the Brockville animal Hospital and the flower shop. Mom almost cried, then I almost cried, then Tarah almost cried. But really, how sweet is that that the Vet's would send us a flower because they knew we would be sad. I thought it was really nice.

He's gone. It was so sad. I've randomly been crying all day, and then I think, this is dumb, he was just a dog, then I think, no it's totaly justified he was a member of my family for 14 years and it's sad and weird that he's gone.

He would sing with me, he would wake Tarah up when her sugar was critically low and no one else noticed (about four cases of this happening...I have no idea how he knew), he would run around like crazy after a bath and let Tarah dress him up in pj's when she was little. He would always greet us at the door when you came home, or lie near you when you were sick. He was completely devoted to my dad. I used to make little jumps in the front yard and make him go over them. He would attack any dog bigger than him to 'protect' us and always barked at the bad guys or any animal on the TV. (he could pick out a badguy before we could sometimes) I'm so very very sad that he's gone.

*sigh*

The TCD stands for 'the christmas dog' as he was a Christmas present even though we technically got him november 17th. We got a fax from Santa that there was an exciting present waiting for us at home, Dad got a fax from Santa telling him that there was a dog waiting for us at the Humane society in Ottawa and frisbee's ID number (I saw both faxes..and they were from the number 1 800 north pole, so I'm pretty sure they were legit! :) ) and there he was. When dad picked him up he was a mere two hours away from being put down because of his chronic ear infections that made him 'unsuitable' for adoption. (a totaly easy fix with antibiotics) And then he was ours for 14 years. I named him. We wanted to call him 'frisky' because he was..well..jumping around and frisky..but Craig had a fish named Frisky at the time and you can't have two pets of the same name so I figured Frisbee was kind of close. And thus the crazy name was born. He was about two when we got him...and 16 is really old for a dog, and he was very sick and unhappy...so it really was time for him to go. He even seemed happy to be at the vet, which is totaly totaly unlike him. And it was really quick, and totaly painless, he just relaxed...lay down and went to sleep. And it was so hard to leave him there, except that it was with the vet that really liked him...so, that made it easier. We pick up his ashes next week and we're going to bury him in the garden.

*sigh*

I'm going to miss him.

Tomorow..3 o'clock appointment at the vet. Then no more Frisbee. I keep crying, it's really ridiculous.

And for more fun, we were sitting on the couch watching a movie, and my mom found a tick on her neck. (we live in the country and yet we've never seen ticks before (Any of us)) So that prompted a massive freak out, running around, calling telehealth and everyone checking each other for ticks. Followed by everyone fighting too go first for a really hot shower. (I got to go second) *shudder* We have the little thing in a ziplock bag...apparently there are more of them than usual this year. yipee.

This was officially a bad day.

I think we're going to have to put my dog down. He's super old and covered in lumps and keeps having weird seizures. It's ridiculously sad, and I wish he would just die naturally because the thought of being directly responsible for his death makes me cry. Poor puppy....