You were a pain, into everything, destructive. You left mice in my bed and you did what you knew was against the rules and looked right at me while doing it. You would walk out of the kitchen with its easily cleaned vinyl floor right over to a rug just to hork all over it. Because of all your health problems you were hideously expensive. You were mischief personified.
And I've missed that so much as that cantankerous, head-strong personality faded in recent weeks. I had felt for the last couple weeks that something more than the thyroid problem was going on and as we drove to the vet's today I feared that you wouldn't come home. The finding of the intestinal tumor ended any hope of you ever coming back.