We put my mom's boxer, Pandora, to sleep tonight.  She was ten and had Cushings and Bell's palsy.  She had basically stopped eating and was wasting away to nothing, despite multiple medication changes and attempts to give her just about every dog food and human food available.  She had given up, and it was time to let her go.

My mom got her about two weeks before I left for grad school.  Her other dog, Nero the basset, knew all of my packing meant bad news and became very depressed.  Although Nero was (and is) technically my mom's dog, he thought he was my dog.  We did everything together, and I very much wanted to take him with me, but my mom wouldn't let me have him.  She loves him, too.  So, on some level, my mom got the dog a dog.  Nero and Pandora adored each other.

Because I was in school and then working in academia, I was able to visit often, including during those long Christmas breaks.  So, I got close to Pandora even though I didn't live here.  I came back because of Hurricane Katrina, and she didn't even make it two months.  I feel like I'm Haley's comet and she's Mark Twain.

She was a great dog and will be missed.