Our day was "enriched" when my daughter called in a frenzy informing us that their dog had just died, and would I please do something with the body.
So, Grandpa found an old cooler, drove to the campground, fetched the poor gal, got a bag of ice from the store and have her stashed in the basement. I'll refresh the ice tomorrow and they can then drive her back to Maryland and provide a resting place in their yard. They youngest lad was sitting in a chair crying his eyes out - and everybody was just ignoring him. I gave him a hug and told him it was alright to be sad.
Sadly, the kids are seeking to "place blame" for the dog's death - well Tinker was blind, nearly toothless, deaf, incontinent and pushing 22 years of age; I told them to be thankful that she just layed down and went to sleep.
der Brucer