Quote: (08-31-2018 12:41 AM)zenbastard Wrote:
My dog died at sixteen Tuesday. A big German Short Haired Pointer, he was a good friend, kept me fit until he couldn't hike any more, total chick magnet -- he was very handsome, loved the girls, put his head right in the snatches --, and now he's dead.
I buried him in my garden, and I find myself incredibly sad. I keep having false moves to give him the bone from the ribs I was eating, or to check to make sure he was comfortable. I look out my window to stare at his grave, remembering this sweet, goofy fuck of a buddy.
Is this normal? Is the bond a man has for a dog this deep, or am I being an incredibly pussy? I've had plenty of death of people I've deeply loved, but this has been the worst. Thoughts please, fellas.
Sorry for your loss, Buddy.
Guts have been spilled and men cry-groups formed in the thread that ski pro linked you to.
Losing dogs, especially ones you've had that long, is horrible. Rally back!