As I was leaving for work Mr. Frodo (our cat) came to the door crying. His back right leg was all torn up and he couldn't stand or walk on it. While I was calling the vet I emailed work and told them I couldn't come in. I am 99% sure it was the dog from across the street (remember the one we call Big Guy?). The owner has started letting him run loose again. He kills chickens all the time and has been chasing our cats.
The vet said his injuries were bad. It looked like nerve damage and possible broken bones. On top of everything else, they tested him, and he was positive for Feline Leukemia. It killed me to have to do it, but I went ahead and let them euthanize him. I was there, petting him as he slipped quickly away. I cried a little then, and a little in the car before coming home, but right now I can't stop crying. I have had pets die before, but I have never had to do that before. If he hadn't been so torn up, I might have tried to keep him in the house and just treated him, but Mr. Frodo loved being outside and it was always hard to keep him in. He was extremely independent and aloof one minute, then a big cuddly baby in my arms the next.
I called Animal Control when I got home, and left a message on their machine. The dog doesn't have a mean bone in his body, when it comes to people--I'd almost feel better if he was mean. He is so sweet with us. But he has to go, one way or the other.
I'm thankful I got the pictures of him and Cubbie the other day. He was such a sweet baby. James doesn't know yet.