It reminded me of my own little Bandit. I found him in the alley alone, scared, very thin. I'm am guessing he was about three months old, maybe closer to two. He was a pit bull mix, not a breed I very much cared for. I offered him to a friend of mine that had just lost his dog, a poodle. He refused, as did everybody else I inquired to. It did not take long for me to become very attached to the little mutt. About two months later after feeding him the best dog food I could buy, he looked great. Whenever I would walk him around the neighborhood, everybody would stop us and remark how beautiful he was. Unfortunately he became ill soon after, I thought he had a stomach bug of some sort. He was still eating and drinking, but his appetite was very low. On our last night together, I put him at the foot of my bed to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I found he had gone down to the floor, and he was gone. I sobbed all that day.
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