By James Byrd
“Brutus, let’s go for a ride!”
Those were magic words once. They would make Brutus jump for joy and run in circles. Now, he moved slowly… his little Yorkie body had seventeen years on it and he struggled to get up.
“Okay, Brutus.” I reached down to pick him up—he moaned a little. The pain had gotten to the point that medication no longer helped. I set him in the passenger seat on his blanket with his favorite toy. He nudged the toy and it squeaked.
Oh God, how I hated my next words.
“Come on, Brutus. One more ride.”
Brought tears to my eyes. Quite a feat for so few words.
Killer story!
Wonderful, wonderful! Tugs mightily at the heartstrings. This one is definitely a WINNER!!!
Remember that last ride
loved it…all teary now.