Brunhilde Freya was my mother's pup. Eight and a half years ago she drove to the breeder, picked her out at 8 weeks of age, brought her home and loved her, spoiled her rotten, as all dogs should be. Dad, of course, helped in the spoiling and loving of Bruni. Everywhere Ma went, there was Bruni.
When Ma became ill, Bruni was there to love her still. When Ma's disease, ALS, had progressed too far for Dad to be able to care for her at home, and she went to nursing home, Bruni became the reason Dad still had to get up every day, still had to go about a daily routine. Bruni became Dad's dog. Wherever Dad went, there was Bruni.
I got the call last night. Bruni was stumbling on Sunday, so off to the vets they went on Monday morning, as she wasn't any better. Doc took some tests, "didn't like the look of this." The results came back Wednesdau, stage 3 lymphoma, nothing could be done. Bruni went to her rest yesterday, a much loved dog by not just Dad, but all us kids, the grandkids, the neighbors, Aunt Shirley and family in NY state - everyone she met.
She's with Ma now, a happy reunion, I am sure.
Bruni as Dog of the Day
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