All of a sudden, I really didn't care about taking pictures of my food.

Otis, requiring a hair cut. He had to be knocked out at the vet's to be groomed.

On Thursday, my dog Otis blarked up all over the floor. His appetite had been off since starting him on a different food. That evening, after going to town on some (according to him) very delicious tripe we picked up to settle his stomach, he went down with some pretty spectacular GI upset. By Friday morning, he wasn't keeping down water and there were some blood spots in what he was bringing up. We rushed him to the vet to get the nausea under control and to get some fluids into him. He also got a shot of antibiotics. Bloodwork checked out. Vet said it was just a GI thing and to bring him back if he didn't start eating by Sunday. He seemed to be rallying and was able to keep down water. Yay! Saturday evening, he started to really worry me, though. His breathing was not good and he refused to eat. Sunday morning, there was specks of blood on his towel and on the floor. He was still drinking and keeping the water down so I was crossing my fingers that was a good sign. We, again, rushed him to the vet. This time, they admitted him. X-rays showed his lungs were filled with fluid. The vet said it could be pneumonia, blasto or something with his heart but, after talking through the options, we settled on pneumonia as most likely and started treating for that. That meant oxygen, and fluids and antibiotics by IV along with sedation and pain management. Eight hours later we got the call. He wasn't responding and was only getting worse. He'd brought up a lot of blood. His breathing was shallow. We didn't want him to die alone in the night. Our vet was great and it was peaceful. I got to hold him, tell him how awesome he was and give him a good ear rub as she administered the needle into his IV.

Otis when he was about eight. This was the last time we could convince a groomer to touch him. Seriously, look how cute he is! And sweet! And love-able. He was all of those things.Except when you attempted to groom him.

He was an older dog - almost 15 - but he'd been healthy. I couldn't understand how the hell this could happen. What had I missed? How didn't I know that something was going wrong? How could he be fine on Wednesday, barking like a goofball when Jill came to pick me up for work that morning, and dead from pneumonia by Sunday. Turns out it was very likely aspiration pneumonia, which can develop if you accidentally bring gastric fluid into the lungs when vomiting. It's serious and life-threatening. For Otis, it was catastrophic.

Otis with some of his most favourite people.

I miss my buddy so much already and it hasn't even really hit yet that he has died. He was an awesome dog. A complete and utter character. I'm dreading the day that it snows again and all of the tracks he made in the snow in the backyard last week are covered and there won't be any new ones. Because that's going to mean he's really gone.

Otis, on the best day of his life.  Of course it's the best day.  He's on a boat!  In the mountains!  With his family.