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April Pruppet of the Month: Oreo

OREO

Oreo

This isn’t crime related, but pruppet related. And it’s long, so I totally get if you scroll on by.

In October 2003, I had lost my dog (he passed away unexpectedly at 7 years old) and was finally ready to think about adopting a new one. I went to the local shelter just to see who they had. I hopped out of my car, and there was this sweet black and white basset hound looking pup out who came over to me. I assumed he belonged to one of the workers, so I gave him some pets and then went in to talk to them. He followed me around as I looked, never letting me out of his sight. I finally asked about him, and they said he was available, he was about 6 months old and he’d been returned because a teenage boy had adopted him and didn’t realize how much work went into a puppy. His name was Oreo, and they were going to be picky about who got him because he was a staff favorite and they wanted him to have a good home. We talked for a bit more and when they realized I worked at the school, they decided I was the one. I told them I’d be back the next day and I left. The next day, I came back and adopted him. It was October 30. I took him home and my parents (who I lived with at the time) fell in love. He had perfect manners, never had an accident in the house, and was generally a perfect little love bug. He stayed by me moving out, getting married, getting more dogs (well, me one and my then husband one), having my son (who was most certainly *his* baby–he didn’t like anyone he didn’t know coming in the yard), getting divorced, losing the other dog I adopted to old age, my ex’s dog moving out, dealing with depression and anxiety, us getting 2 more dogs, moving back in with my parents, and then losing my dad last month unexpectedly. About 2 weeks ago, he took a turn for the worse. He’s 15. He’s a big dog (basset hound/border collie mix) and they don’t live that old. He couldn’t walk, barely ate. He stopped eating 10 days ago. Everything I read said dogs can’t live more than 3-5 days without food generally. We finally were able to get him to the vet today and him put down. My heart is broken into a million little pieces. I’m at the “I’m never getting another dog again” phase. I know it’ll pass, I’m the crazy dog lady. But right now, I’m never getting another. My best friend said, “anyone who spends more than 15 minutes with you knows that Oreo is your heart.” And now I have to find a way to go on without him. My son is 9, and I have to help him deal with this when I don’t know if I can for myself yet.

Anyway, if you read this far, thanks. I have no point. I just wanted to talk to people who understand. Hug your dogs close tonight. Give them an extra cookie now and then. Take too many pictures. </3

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