THUNDER

Thunder came to my house as a foster. His owner had died and the family could not care for him. He was twelve years old, blind and required a diaper. But boy, did he have spirit. I placed his bed in the dining room since it was the warmest, quietest place.  He would have none of it. He maneuvered his bed to the laundry room by the back door.  This way he could monitor the comings and goings in the house. I tried to return the bed but he would push the bed right back to where he wanted it to be. The picture is typical after dinner nap pose, especially if it included fresh roast beef or chicken. One night, at the age of fourteen and a half, he went to sleep and by the next morning, he had crossed over the rainbow bridge.  He is dearly missed.