She was 96 in dog years

Strange how these things work sometimes - just eight days after Bear's arrival, it was suddenly time for Turner to go. In the end it wasn't her physical ailments that were too much, it was what my vet called her Canine Cognitive Dysfunction... and what I called doggy dementia. She'd been having bouts of standing in corners or standing for long periods of time with her head in the closet, or of forgetting which way the front door opened and being unable to figure out how to come inside. Until last night, the dementia was manageable, though. Maybe being ill over the weekend made something snap, but last night she was just terribly anxious and confused - pacing, looking for places to hide, darting her head around wildly as if to say, "I don't know where I am or what's going on!" That was when I decided the old girl had had enough.

I only had Turner for eight months, and she slept for most of it. I guess that was all she needed - a soft place to sleep. I so wish I could have done more for her, or made her life more 'fun' ... but I couldn't make her young again, so I have to take comfort in knowing that she knew she was safe and cared for while she was with me. No matter how many times I've helped animals cross over, and no matter how right it's been to do so, it's still always sad.

At least I'm not dogless now. I'm so glad Bear is here -he is flopsy and funny and sweet. I have another big Collie-shaped hole in my heart now... but I've sworn off the Collie Rescue site at least until I can get Bear healthy and strong.

Gah - dogs! Not many things in life wreak such havoc with your heartstrings as a dog.