My Old Man Dog Jax passed away today while I was driving up to Palm Springs. My sister found him in my bed, snuggled up into my pillows. He’d passed in his sleep which is exactly how I’d want him to go on. He was comfortable and happy. I’d spent an hour with him this morning before I headed up scritching him and he’d had a really good day.

He was quite old. And he’d been a rescue who’d had a horrible life before he moved in with us. After that, it was all cookies, sweaters when it was cold and memory foam mattresses to sleep on. And sunbeams. Food whenever he wanted it and all the clean water he could have. As well as a few beef bones now and then. He had dog brothers to play with and a couple of cats he could roomba into since he’d gone blind. Personally I think he was faking it more than a few times just so he could bump into the cats.

I’m okay. Everyone’s fine. When I’d left him he’d been snoring, in a sunbeam and happy. He had that life for more than fifteen years. And he was a good dog.