Hetro was always a good dog. He was part of the family. When he got old enough, we went to Alaska and let him try and pull us. The snow was so deep, I saw him covered in snow from paw to ear. How that made me laugh. When we got back home, Hetro was kinda sad that there was barely any snow. As he grew older, nearing towards the end of his life, he stuck close by me. We knew he was getting weaker with his arthritis and diabities. He always looked at me with those peaceful eyes, looking at me but mentally he's away. On his last day on this Earth, I carried him into the car. He sat in the back, knowing what's coming but didn't care one bit. I put him on the table in the office and went back into the lobby. After a few minutes, seemed like forever, the vet called me back in to say good-bye. I saw Hetro heavily sedated with cords stuck in him. I walked slowly towards Hetro and kneeled beside him, stroaking him in his favorite spot. I told him we'll be alright and we'll see him soon. And then, I told him what I've never said before: "Hetro, you are the greatest thing that happened in my life. Don't you forget that." I told the vet I was ready and she pulled the plunger and checked his heartbeat. He was gone. I loved that dog and I will see him soon. For now, though, good-bye, Hetro.