The Red Dog

We've had to give away the Red Dog. He's been a really, really good dog for the most part. If nothing else, he kept the floor clean of random morsels around the kitchen table. He is sweet, loving, and perhaps protective, or too much so. With age, he has become far too impatient with kids, even our own.

He bit a little girl last summer, the daughter of a really good friend. We thought it was an isolated event, and imposed some strict training and kept up with it. We kept him away from kids he didn't know, changed our routine a ton to make sure we were better dog owners, and thought it was all working. He seemed to have improved.

But he nipped at Lena late last week, enough to draw blood and bruise her. That does it for me. We're not going to wait for something worse to happen.

So sadly, we said goodbye to the Red Dog on Saturday. Yet another end of an era. We seem to be on some kind of a roll. He's gone to live with a good friend who hosts a houseful of dogs (no kids) and has a knack for whipping canines into shape.

Clearly the right choice, but sad nonetheless. Our household is 70 pounds lighter. And now I suppose I'll have to start sweeping the kitchen floor...