When we got back into town, I checked up on him before heading over to my parents’ house to move a headboard. Since Dad and I were heading over to the ski resort to look at this…unbelievable view…Mom offered to watch over the General while we were gone. Heading back to my house, I wrapped him up in the blanket he was delivered in to me when I first got him. Upon the leaving the house, he wriggled and squirmed, trying to lurch out of my arms. I caught him…and next thing I knew…he was gone.
We thought there were signs that he might revive, the way his body twitched, his mouth opening as if to try and breathe. The vet had me check for a heartbeat and movement in his eyes. He figures, though without a proper autopsy we can’t be for sure, that he might have had a pre-existing heart or liver condition, which might have been the reason why his mother abandoned him.
We buried him in my parents’ backyard.
It was just only two days ago I was saying how lucky it was when I took him in, or else some mean dogs might have gotten to him in my manager’s neighborhood. The few good things we could say is that he was cared for…happy during the short time he had…and didn’t die alone.


