Today, July 5, is the three-year anniversary of Hoover's death. What a terrible day in our family, for George especially, but before that, we had 13 years of Tigger living with us. Yes, he definitely should have been named Tigger. He was flouncy, jouncy, bouncy, pouncy fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
In his memory, I'm linking to a blog post he wrote for me not long before he was diagnosed with cancer. He was a good dog (mostly!) and leaped his way into our hearts. Those hearts broke when he had to be put to sleep.
After he died, Hoover sent Daisy to us for healing. She didn't replace him and has a different personality that makes her very, um, special, and she did heal us with her own unique sort of golden craziness combined with a sweetness that we needed. Hoover knew what he was doing when he bullied the angels into sending her to us.
I hope you enjoy reading Hoover's story in his own words. He reminds me that we're not supposed to cry because it's over but laugh because it happened at all.
Guest Blogger: Hoover