Picabo was euthanized this morning. She was 15 years old. The sub-q fluids did not go well for either of us, so we had to stop. I tried to make this last month or so the happiest I could for her. I spent a lot of time petting and holding her, gave her her favorite foods all day, just loved her.

I made her a little coffin out of a box painted white. She looked just like she was sleeping all curled up, so peaceful. We took her to my mom's farm and buried her under a wild pear tree. We picked some pretty stones from the creek for grave markers and we will carve her name and dates on one later.

Steve went with me to the vet's. He cried when she slipped away. I've never seen him cry before, even at his grandparents' funerals.

When we got back home it really hit me hard, because there was no Picabo waiting at the door, smiling up at me with her little furry face and her big golden eyes, asking politely to be fed. I just can't believe she's really gone. It's just not right.

I'm heartsick.