I never knew...

It would be so hard to lose a dog that wasn't really mine, but mostly Chris's, and really only mine for three years. But he was a great dog and putting him to sleep was like ripping part of me out and stomping it on the floor as cliche as that sounds. It's just a dog, I tell myself, but still, since it happened almost two weeks ago, I have had reoccuring dreams most nights where he's alive. And in one of them he had "survived" our attempt to put him to sleep. I guess I have guilt. I shouldn't have guilt. I miss him.