Yesterday, my dog Squeeter had to be put down. At age 16, his mind was still sharp and his eye sight good, but his poor old skeleton just wasn't doing a very good job anymore. He was having a hard time getting up and laying down. Occasionally, he'd fall when he went from the carpet to the hardwood floor. 2 days ago, he became sick. He wasn't able to hold food down anymore. Telling my wife to have him put to sleep was the hardest thing that I've ever done in my life. I fully understand that he is now in a better place. A place where there is no pain and there is no suffering. A place where sticks throw themselves and the water is always cool. It just doesn't make the heartache go away though. Squeeter, 1993-2009: Rest in peace my brother. I'm sorry that I couldn't have done more for you.