The doorbell rang this morning. I paused before I answered it, as I always do. I usually wait for Kipp to get to the door with me so I can scoop up the little silly thing in my arms before I open the door. It only took me a brief moment to realize I didn't hear his jingly dog tags coming my way, nor would I ever again. Emotions hit me and I had to quickly decide if I could still answer the door.
Kipp has been sick for a couple of months and we had to make the decision to take him to the vet yesterday and put him out of his misery.
He's been underfoot for so many years. I keep expecting to hear him run to the door as I come in. The house is far too quiet. Who would have thought a funny little dog could get so attached to our hearts?