Jefe

Jefe died a little while ago at the vet's office. He'd been getting rapidly more ill over the last few days, and he could hardly walk this morning.

He'd had a positive Coombs test, indicating hemolytic anemia. The cause of the condition doesn't seem clear, but that was the explanation for his continuing anemia. I had hoped it would resolve after his spleen was removed - and he seemed to improve for a while - but that didn't turn out to be the case.

The vet said there may have been another mass. It doesn't really matter now, though.

Miss Fluffy is really torn up about it. I resent that I have to be at work in under 2 hours and that I can't be here for her.

I'm not sure how to feel. I'm crying as I write this. He was miserable over the last couple of days. Miss Fluffy had to carry him to the car this afternoon. I didn't want him to suffer.

I loved Jefe. He wasn't my first dog, but he was the first dog I had as an independent adult. He's lived with me and Miss Fluffy in two apartments and two houses. He's been with us through moves and job changes - thick and thin. He could frustrate the snot out of me, but... He was everything that we all love about our dogs -- he was the epitome of unconditional love.

There will probably be other dogs, but there will never be another Jefe.

You're a good dog, Jefe. I love you, and I'll miss you.