Blue died this morning. I'd let him out on the front porch with food and water and he didn't want to eat, very unusual, he just sat there panting. So I stroked his head a few times, walked over to the Pick 'n Steal for coffee and when I returned he was lying down by the front door, very still.
What a good boy! He came to the Compound in the Fall of 2014, a stray, and set up on the front porch until I fed him, doctored him up and took the furry little fella in.
Of course he was young then and full of high spirits. Woe betide the unwary guest who dared leave a fried cherry pie untended on the dining room table, or a juicy steak, or Eduardo's chickens, or errant Fedex men.
But that was then. Over the last year he became increasingly deaf and blind, not that he seemed miserable for it, but he certainly slowed right down and spent most of his time sleeping.
I won't bang on; it's a mercy he went out as he did, quick and at home. I buried him today beside the house.
Blue Brigand, you will be very missed,
LSP
