On Monday. When I went over to work at the Wilson's, Mrs. Wilson was out hosing him down and working with him. Tina had been out, but she was getting groceries at the time. Over the course of a few minutes, Moonie started belly breathing big time. He looked like he was having stomach cramps, except he would relax everytime immediately. He started leaning on his back legs and stumbling. He was breathing really hard. Tina came back. She started pumping herbs and oils into him, and Mrs. Wilson gave him some homeopathics. He ended up falling down. His eyes got huge.
Mrs. Wilson said that if I needed to, I could go do what I had to do. I went off to work. I couldn't do anything standing there anyway, and I don't exactly believe in standing there watching someone die. Seems rude to me. Anyway, Mrs. Wilson came over to me about 45 minutes later and apologized for sending me off. She said she wasn't meaning to be rude or seem like she didn't want me there. It was totally okay, I didn't feel like she had said it that way. She asked if I had daddy's number. That's when I knew that Moon didn't make it.
Daddy couldn't come to bury Moon. I think they had to call in a company to do it.
Old Moonie. By far the toughest, sweetest animal I have ever met.