Teach us to Number Our Dog Days.

I had to put my dog to sleep last week. We found out she had a mass on her spleen and it was about to rupture. She was thirteen. That’s 91 in dog years. So she had a pretty good life. Today’s featured cartoon was based on our little, sassy dog. I miss that pooch!

Last Tuesday morning, things appeared fine. We took our walk and she got her treat just like any other day. When I came home that evening, I could tell something was wrong. She acted like she couldn’t move. She appeared alarmed and in discomfort. Within twenty-four hours, she was gone.

We like to make our plans. Many times, we procrastinate with those plans and put things off to another day. But we aren’t guaranteed any days. I think of that whenever I hear of the passing of someone my age, or even younger than me.

Make the most of today, my friends. Because we just don’t know how many dog days we have left. After all, the dog days of summer are gone and it is already autumn.