23/01/2025
Dear lovers of this tiny scruffy little dog,
I'm so sorry to tell you I had to say goodbye to Mackey today. While I didn't subject him to full diagnostics, I did bloodwork and a p*ek with my ultrasound, and my suspicion is a bleeding intestinal tumor. It kind of snuck up on us the last few months, but became impossible to ignore in the last few days.
Macklemore is impossible to describe to people who don't know him, and I've stopped really trying - I just tell them to imagine a half-rabid opossum who p*es on everything. But that really doesn't do him justice. He loved a lap even while he hated hands; he never really learned how to properly play, but occasionally enjoyed "playing" with me from a distance, while I poked at his paws with a 3-foot-long cardboard tube (for safety). He loved snuggling with other dogs but didn't want them to know it, so he'd slowly creep up toward the bed, hind end first, and settle in bit by bit, without them noticing (he thought). In his younger years, he liked hiking (for the smells and p*es), stealing large suspicious food items from underbrush (what are those fish sticks doing there? whose hot dog is that? is that a chicken wing?), and taking yogurt/ice cream/microwave/anything containers and misc. garbages under my bed to investigate at his leisure. In his later years, his hobbies included following sun spots, lounging in a heated cat bed, and getting angry at me for making him leave the house for work, and then getting angry at me for making him leave work to go home again. He bit several people I loved, and I will carry the scars from his tiny but shockingly vicious toofers for the rest of my life. I have so many stories and so many things I want everyone to know about Mackey, but I'm so tired right now. I just wanted you all to know.
Thank you for loving him. Love, Hooman.
