A good friend gone

Seems like in blogland a lot of people are losing their beloved pets lately. Ichabod and I don't have any pets so I "adopt" them through other people.

Ichabod's parents' last three dogs have been female Afghans. The first, a beautiful blonde named Farrah, had passed before I met Ichabod. Then next, a mixed brindley kind of color, was a sweet thing named Alexandria. I loved her very much.

After she passed they decided they needed another Afghan. Cassie was a funny little black and tan hound-looking thing when they got her. She loved everyone. In fact, she was a little rambunctious which put people off a bit. If anyone here knows Afghans you know that, like cats, they don't do anything they don't want to.

But Ichabod's mother would take her to the seventh grade classes that she taught and Cassie was a gem. Well-behaved and well-loved by all. She was so good with people that she had even been certified as a Therapy Dog. That means she could go to nursing homes and places like that and just hang around for lots of love.

Around last March her moods seemed odd. She didn't respond as well. By June, when this picture was taken, she was starting to have seizures. Cassie just wasn't herself. They tried thyroid treatments, which is an Afghan problem, but that didn't really do it. The seizures got worse. She didn't seem to recognize people or be herself at all.

Two weeks ago, just four weeks after her sixth birthday, Ichabod's parents make the hard decision to let her go. We'll always remember the sweet girl that she was.