Gone

Atticus died last night.

Jason found him laying by his water bowl (his favorite spot) this morning. He just fell asleep and didn't wake up. He looked very peaceful. Jason wrapped him up in an old Holly Hobbie sheet. Ironically, we had had him for almost exactly four years, because we got him a few weeks before the last presidential election, when we were newly married.

Sometimes I think God prepares me for stuff without me knowing. Atticus always been a hopeless cause with his grooming, but for the past few days, I've been holding him on my lap at night and brushing him. I got all of his knots out of his fur. I washed his ears and his face last night really well. He actually looked better than he had in months.

There is always a plan for everything, and I know God had one here. He has always had health problems (and mental problems), and the vet had told me years ago that he probably wouldn't live past five years. But I am still so sad. I really loved him. He was one of the oddest, most pathetic creatures--but he was wonderful.

I will miss him.