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When I was a kid, a dog adopted us. He plopped himself down on our front doorstep and promptly fell asleep.
My Dad had no interest in acquiring a dog but when we moved later that year, Peanut Butter came with us. He was a genuine mutt, with a bit of wire hair terrier. He was a mellow soul but tough as nails. He survived a scorpion bite and a nasty run-in with some neighborhood dogs. Maybe a cat gave him a few of their nine lives because he recovered both times.
I was with Peanut Butter when we took him to the vet one last time. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But when a friend as faithful as he was needed help…
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