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Charlie was born in 2004. He was a very happy dog, but we got him at a random farm, and we think he had a lot of problems, including cancer. He lived five happy years, but then he started to lose excitement and interest. Seven months later,I woke up one Sunday morning to a loud "THUMP". We let Charlie out and when he came back in, he was very weak and tired. We took him to the emergency vet, and they took him until Tuesday night. They said he should be OK, but if his feces are black and tarry, then he's internally bleeding, and they'd have a major problem on his hands. We took him home, and gave him everything he wanted for 24 hours, but when I came home on Wednesday from school, I saw my sister crying, and my parents were outside with Charlie, my dad on the phone. What we prayed wouldn't happen, happened. We took a feces sample to the vet, and they said there's probably a tumor of some sort in his body. The only thing we could do is put him to sleep. I will always remember Charlie, and I bet that Charlie taught me one thing or another during those six years. RIP Charlie.
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