A tribute, and a good-bye

Dear P-Dog,

You were always supposed to be your own blog post. You deserved it.

An ever-so-sudden diagnosis of cancer and your fast decline beat me to the punch. I am sorry for that. And many things.

You rocked as a dog and I am taking this harder than you might even imagine, considering how we got on toward the end. No matter how much you growled at the girls, or how much we kept changing things around, you were a true Prince to the end.

Please take good care from your new place, which hopefully doesn't include annoying toddlers. Please know that your Best Friend -- the one who picked you out and brought you home and took the best care of you -- never stopped loving you once I came along or once the two little rascals came along, too. Sure, things changed, but his dedication and devotion to you did not.



One thing is certain: You made an impression on two little girls, too.





You are a hero of a dog. A true beauty. A star above the rest.



In your 10 years with your Best Friend and I, you went to the beach, to Asheville, N.C., numerous romps in the parks, swimming in a creek, chased dozens of squirrels, rabbits and ran out of fear from mice. You caught balls, chewed up a candle that looked like a cinnamon roll and pooped all over the girls' playroom. And that's just one paragraph. The stories are endless.

And, Prince, while you may not have protected the house from a burglar, you certainly protected it from the evil mail carriers. You spent countless hours worrying about the mail, innocent people passing by and thumps in the house that might have been the next bad thing. It was a tiring job!

Rest, boy. Rest.