One of the last pictures of my old man.  This is Picasso.  I named him this because he had a splash of color on his chin.  At his prime, he weighed 19 pounds.  I lost him last year.  To old age.  He was 20 when I had to let him go.  I miss him.  I will lose Jock next.  He is 13 and has the beginnings of congestive heart failure.  He quit sleeping on the bed with me.  I gave him a comfy bed under my computer desk.  He spends most of his time there.  He is happy.  And to add insult to injury, he had allergies.  He gets an antihistimine twice a day.  Love my babies.  And it hurts to watch them fail.  Really hurts. 

This is my boy on his bed.  He had just finished tearing up a toy.  He tears them up to get the squeaker.  Then he is through with the toy. 

And this is Jock and Picasso not long before Picasso left.  My babies.