So this last weekend Laura and I took Pepper and Samantha to our vet. We go to VCA Spring Mountain for them to get up-to-date on shots. Pepper needed one, Samantha needed three.

We’d been neglecting Pepper’s teeth cleaning until our tax return came in because it was going to ring in at about $400. So we finally scheduled to have her teeth done, and they were done yesterday.

They were very nice to Laura when she took Pepper in yesterday and very nice to me when I picked her up. They were also very informative about all that we needed to do after the cleaning to ensure good teeth health until her next cleaning.

Pepper was pretty out of it thanks to having been put under. VCA said that really they can’t do a full cleaning unless they put the animal under because the animal will fight, move, etc. It made sense. Thus, Pepper was pretty out of it. She was sluggish and couldn’t jump into my car, had trouble getting out, just kinda zoned out.

Obviously this is expected behavior. But what we didn’t expect was a call today from the vet, asking how Pepper was doing. That’s pretty cool in my book.

Not only that, but they’ve had a history of treating us very well with our pets. When we had to put Dusty down, they were totally awesome about it. Very nice and very understanding on everything. We felt valued and that they understood that our pet was a part of our family and not just an animal. We were upset over having to put him down and they were very good about the whole process.

Basically our vet has been spectacular. I really like them and we’ll continue to take our pets there any time we need veterinary service done. High marks from me.

Farewell, old friend. Knowing you these past 6 1/2 years has been a blast. With all of the ups and downs, I’m glad to be able to say that I grew to know you and to love you.

I first met you in the fall of 2002. You were a spritely 14 then, skinny as can be and about as cranky as an old timer could be. You liked to sleep all day, voice your concern when you weren’t getting enough attention, and you wouldn’t use the proper receptacle to relieve yourself if you felt it wasn’t clean enough.

Throughout the last 6 1/2 years, you didn’t really change much. You always loved attention, loved gourmet food and wanted to sleep right on top of your loved ones to be as close to them as possible. You even had a small jealous streak going — you just couldn’t let anybody be closer to your prized loved one than you.

I feel that you grew to love me. I certainly grew to love you. Despite your laundry list of shortfalls, you grew near and dear to me. Your puke on the carpet didn’t matter. Your upset stomach in the closet didn’t matter. Your aforementioned bathroom-going adventures, yes, didn’t matter either. Neither did your penchant for showing affection in ways that could cause physical pain. Your incessant chattiness until about a week ago.

Right through to the end, you were yourself and nobody else. Nobody could tell you to do something or make you do something. You wanted life your way and your way only. It was your way or the highway.

You will be remembered for being a great, great member of our family. Always laying around, being lovable, and just in general, brightening our days. It didn’t matter how bad of a day I might have had. When I came home, all you wanted was to spend time with me. You just wanted to hang out and soak up the loving.

You were also pretty outgoing too. I wouldn’t be stretching the truth if I said you loved to meet new people. You would always saunter right up to them and strike up a conversation, wanting to hang out and make new friends. You even warmed up to two new family members that I’m damn sure you felt threatened by early-on. You just got along with people.

You’ve had to move three summers in a row. That couldn’t have been easy on you, but you weathered the storm and never lost your cool. Be it Castle Rock Court, Maryland Parkway, San Rossore Court or Aspen Shadow Street, a home didn’t feel like a home unless you were there. Unless you laid one of your famous stamps on it. Unless Damian would come by and remark he knew you lived there by the state of things.

Yes, old friend. These 6 1/2 years have been great for you and I. A wonderful time of friendship, family and love. While I must move on without you, I shall never forget you. While I will spend time with the family that you left behind, you will remain family forever. Good luck, wherever you may be. Know that I love you dearly.

I’ll miss your meows, Dusty Ludwick. R.I.P November 26, 2008.