Our beloved family dog, Stanley, a German Shepherd mutt rescued from the streets, was put to sleep yesterday at the age of 12 with great sadness. My wife said it best, amongst the tears:
"He dug up my yard. He stunk. He peed and pooped in my house. But he was my dog, darnit, and I loved him. He was a gentle soul - unless you were a cat or a chicken."
Rest in Peace, Stan. May there be endless tummy rubs and vermin to chase, wherever you are.
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