His name is Mack he was a chow/Rottweiler mix. But most of all he was a very loyal friend.

My daughter used to squeeze his neck and call him Mackypoo, Mack was so gentle with her, and kept a watchful eye on her every move.

It was a extremely painful night when we were told he was run over by someone that did not stop. It was probably best that I never found out who hurt my friend and left him to die.

He was 8 years old, when I had to hold his paw, and quietly whispered in his ear while he laid on the vets table, Mommy, Kacee, and I love you so much, you can go now to a better place.

We miss you Mack.

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