Today my mom and I had to take our boxer, Buckley to the vet to be put to sleep. When she got up this morning, he had bled a lot in our house and we couldn't tell where it was coming from. At 12 years old, he was well past the life expectancy for his breed. The vet saw that he had a cancerous tumor on his gums that had most likely spread around the inside of his digestive track (and it's where the blood was coming from). Mom stayed with him to be put to sleep, while I stayed in the waiting room. I heard my mom crying in the room, and I went in to check on her and saw Buckley now lifeless on the floor; he looked peaceful. This was the first time I'd ever accompanied someone to put an animal to sleep. He wasn't a perfect dog, and could at times be a real pain to deal with (that's family for you). But, overall he was a very good dog, would never hurt anyone and the most trouble he ever really caused was knocking over trash cans from time to time. He was one of our oldest pets, and will be missed. Sometime this week, we're going to have a little memorial service, where we'll put some things of his in a box and bury it in our yard. I felt that writing this would help me to vent out my feelings, because I'm not always great at expressing them.