I took Chester to the Bridge yesterday at 1:30. I helped open the gate and he ran across to be with all my other fur and feathered babies. Poor Chester couldn't walk yesterday morning. I thought his arthitis was just acting up so I went on the take my grandson off to his college classes. When I got back, several hours later, he was worse. His breathing was labored and he still couldn't stand up. So, I made the call, come in at 1:30,I was told. Oh, how I hate this! I just wanted him to lay down and go to sleep and just not wake up! I know it was best and it wouldn't be fair or kind to make him suffer just because I was being selfish in not letting him go. He was 19 years old, I had him 15 of those years. Oh, how I will miss his devil-may-care attitude. He was like a 7 lb. great dane; totally fearless and ever so bold. He stood tall and erect and his little tail never stopped waveing in the air. I sat out his feed dish at suppertime,then remembered, he's not coming in for supper tonite. He's having his supper at the Rainbow Bridge with Otis&Lucy&Dexter&Mickey&Boo&Minnie,so many more I've almost lost track. Oh, how I still miss them all.