After several months of battling both a heart murmur and Cushing’s Syndrome, our sweet boy’s health took a sharp turn for the worse. This morning, at 9:45 AM, Roscoe was put to sleep by his vet.
Roscoe was about 10 when we adopted him and was an old set in his ways fart. He was also full of love and made us laugh. He was a friendly guy, unless you were a cat. Even then, he’d mostly just give a woof or two, then walk on.
He was a very good boy and we miss him terribly.
Edit from November 23. 2014: It is over a 9.5 years since Roscoe died and it still hurts me to read his obit up there. I miss you, old buddy.