Brea has gone to wherever good dogs go when they die. She was eleven years old, and we had nine years together. In March she was diagnosed with tumors in her spleen and abdomen. She was doing pretty well until this week, when she appeared to be becoming uncomfortable, especially when going up and down stairs, and her belly was noticeable distended. So last night I made the difficult decision that it was time to say goodbye. Sweet Brea.
