Born: April 3, 2007
Died: October 16, 2020 (13 years)
In 2015, we took him to the vet because we believed that he had a cataract in his right eye. He did. My family had no idea how it happened. It was hard for him to see. Brutus was paranoid and flinched everytime we would touch him. He would still chase a squirrel or two in the backyard, but it was clear something has changed.
In 2020, I think it was June, we took him in again because he was breathing oddly. The report we received later said he had an enlarged heart, which was blocking his airways. By this time, we knew the end was coming. Now he refused to go outside, so I carried him when he wanted outside, and I hand fed him food my father would make, because he wouldn't eat out of his dog bowl.
Then, on October 16, my father and I agreed that now it was time to end Brutus' suffering. His breathing was shallow and labored, and even though I fed him, he would still often refuse to eat.
I refused to go to the vet, I couldn't handle it. The rest of my family went instead.
When they returned, we buried Brutus. We placed four cookies on the blanket we wrapped around him, as my father placed a bottle of beer next to him. A moment of silence was followed. All of us said our prayers, and Father covered the grave with the dirt he had dug up.
Now, we have plans to create a small flower garden around the sides of the grave.
May you rest in peace, Brutus. You're in a better place now, free of sickness and pain, but you'll always have a special place in my heart.