saying good-bye

14 years ago, my mom and brother brought home the cutest puppy from the pound. The story is that a police officer found her in a dumpster. Who really knows if that story was a sham or not, but it worked, regardless. My brother named our new dog, Lucy. Dad renamed her Lucy Lee Skank Wilder. (somebody please tell me you remember the Gold Star commericals with "skank" as the star???)

Lucy hasn't been doing so hot these past few years. She's blind as a bat, old, angry and has selective hearing. She's an old man wrapped up into a 30lb frame with fur. The vet recently discovered she has a giant tumor which has been causing her pain and the loss of mobility. Lots of other terribly crappy things too, but the point is, at 3:30pm this afternoon, my parents are taking her to be put to sleep. The vet says it's the best thing. Dang it, I'm crying. Death sucks, even if it's just a dog.

Lucy and Dad were besties. Mainly because she thought his jokes were HILARIOUS.

Lucy was a big fan of the holidays.

She could touch her tongue to her nose. So, so talented.


In her prime.


In the past 5 years, that dog's breath could make the hair
on Isaac's back stand up. But she still had all of her real teeth.

her facebook profile pic.

We're smiling, but Lucy is obviously eyeing our leftovers.

She loved Super Bowl Sundays.

Lucy and the bug both dying. I thought it was poetic.

And lame. But this is my blog so I'll post what I want to.

Lucy always hated Cassius.

Grandma Wilder came over to say goodbye.

My brother John is holding Lucy.

I told them to smile. Grandma said there was nothing to smile about,

then immediately began laughing at her own non-joke.

She does that a lot. And I love her for it.

My final pic with Lucy. Nevermind my neck rolls. ew.

I'll miss you, Lucy.