Putting My Irish Wolfhound Down

Today, I had to put my sweet Irish Wolfhound down. She was a sweet, sweet puppy. She was 10. She lived a good life.

What I’ll Miss About My Irish Wolfhound

• Her sweet temperment
• Her attachment to me. How she cried every time I left home and ran at me when I got home
• Her sweet bark
• Her majesty and beauty
• Our walks
• Her desire to chase bunnies but didn’t because she was so well trained
• Her dreadlocks
• Her small ears
• Her undying love and devotion to me
• How she laid in her grass
• How she loved and protected her chickens
• How I had to scratch her chin every night before bed
• How people called her a Shetland pony
• Her beard
• How she leaned into you when you petted her
• How she loved Dutch Bros
• How she loved peanut butter
• How she’d smash her bones on the concrete, so she could get to the interior, good marrow (she was incredibly smart)
• How she’d raise her paw when she was laying down in a submissive posture, so you could pet her belly
• How she ate snow for her water intake
• How she stood for 24 hours when she had a cone on because she was afraid to lay down
• How she wouldn’t eat when I’d go on vacation

Too much death in my life right now. I love you and miss you, Jewel! I’ll see you soon!