Goodbye, Rocky. You were a good dog.

We put our Doberman to sleep today. He was thirteen, and deteriorating. My mother and I cried as the plunger on the anesthetic went down. We'd had him since I was 11. He was a good boy.

I'm sorry, I was going to write about a bunch of memories here, how he was very excited as a puppy and ran around a lot, and how he would bark and play with the other dogs and ask if he could be top now, but I just can't. Goodbye, Rocky. You were a good boy. No pain for you anymore. You get to play with Katie and Greta and Annie now.