Cash had, what I call, territory issues. Every fall, the "scent" of other dogs in the neighborhood would carry through the breezes for miles to Cash's nose. A slave to his urges, he would track that scent down and try his hardest to father illegitimate children.
Cash wasn't the only pooch that would track this scent down, and being stricken in years, the competition to father bastard children would get fierce. This last bout wasn't the only one that required a visit to the vet. But, it wasn't the battle to subdue his passion that got the best of him, it was the side-effects of his age and internal health.
Hopefully, Cash will find and become best friends with the spirit of the guy that created hot dogs. I think that would be heaven for both of them.
Posted by Brett
2 comments:
oh Cash. I loved him. I remember one time us girls were in charge of babysitting him over a weekend. He took off and we drove around the country roads yelling his name out the windows. We were trying to think of a nice way to let the Shirley's know that we lost their dog. :) Ha! Good times! He was a sweet dog.
Sorry to hear about Cash. Great Pictures!
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