It has been almost two weeks now, but I haven't been able to bring myself to type this until now. My mom had to put Kit, our old family dog, to sleep. He was 14 years old, and had been dealing with severe arthritis issues for the last couple years. He was getting stiffer and stiffer, and finally two weeks ago, he just didn't want to get up anymore. This is hard for me, especially since it wasn't all that long ago that we had to say goodbye to Cody. We adopted Kit from the local Humane Society (same one we got Morgan from) when he was about 6mos old. He was listed as a stray. He was the only dog in the entire shelter that wasn't barking like a crazy thing, so we took him out in the run. The whole family fell in love with him, and we brought him home. We put a red collar on him and named him after KITT, the car in the show Knight Rider. I was 11 at the time... my brothers were 10 and 9. It didn't take long for us to figure out that Kit came from a troubled past, even though he was so young when we got him. He had a gimpy back leg and always walked a little pidgeon-toed. He couldn't see very well. He was hand-shy. He was nervous. With time and love, he did overcome most of his fears, but he was always attached to us. He recognized that when he was with us, he was in a safe place. Another thing was that he was TERRIFIED of men, especially wearing baseball caps. He gradually got better with that fear, but it took a long time, and it all came right back if a strange man startled him. The weird thing, though, is that we didn't find this out at the shelter. He never had a problem with my dad. Ever. In fact, he had the tightest bond with my father than he did with anybody else. When Dad died in 2001 (cancer), Kit really lost some of the bounce in his step. He was still our boy, but I'm sure a little part of him died the day when Dad never came home. At the same time, though, a little bit of my dad lived on in him I am really tearing up over my Kit-ster. He was the last of the family pets. The last pet that I grew up with, grew up together. He was my buddy. I hated leaving for college and leaving him behind. I hated it when my mom had to move to Texas, because I didn't know if I would see him again (his health was already starting to fail at that time). We did get to go visit in April, over my birthday weekend, and took some pictures. So at least I did get to see him one last time. I did have the chance to say goodbye, because I think I knew that was the last time I was going to see him. Goodbye, Kit. You were a special boy. I'm glad we found you, and that you found us. I'm glad that you got to learn what it was to play and to run. Oh how you would run! I'm glad that we were able to give you that second chance, and that you know what it meant to be loved. You were the sweetest dog I've ever met. You're only motivation was to please your family. If your family was sad, you were sad. If your family was happy, you were happy. I will miss your big, brown eyes. I will miss that slow tail-wag you used to do. I will miss your head in my lap. I will miss the way you begged for belly rubs. I will miss how you would race in the backyard, running as if you could run forever. I miss you every day. Now you can run again. You don't have to feel sore anymore. Now you are with Dad again. You are with Cody again. Please say Hi to them for me. I don't know what else I can say, so here are some pictures. These first three are from April, the last time I saw him. This last one is an older picture. It's the only one I have scanned into my computer from younger years, and it isn't the best quality. The other dog is Cody, who passed away earlier this year. (I made that scarf for him one Christmas. He would wear it forever, until Cody eventually yanked it off. Kit loved to dress up.) Goodbye Kit. I love you.