Please take a moment to read this brief and touching article by Lee Woodruff.

When our dog Tucker died, hit by a car in front of my eyes, I was struck in the days that followed by the way grief, relief and guilt could co-exist in such a cozy fashion. I cried my eyes out as I carried his broken body back to the house. But in the aftermath of shock, I felt an uneasy peace that the yippy, ankle biting, stranger-phobic dog that had added so much stress to my already full life was gone. I'd regretted the decision to get him more than once. But then I'd fallen in love. The girls were devastated by his death, and I ached for our eight-pound ball of unconditional love, but I felt a little ... freer. Lighter even.

I thought about .........