Words cannot adequately express how much Glock meant to me. He was my best friend and a beloved member of the family. He answered to many names, including Sugar Bear, Sweet Buddy, Mowgli, and Nessy. He was my shotgun rider and loved to go bye-bye. He enjoyed going for walks, basking in the sun, and, most of all, being with his people. He had a collection of toys and knew each one by name. He would offer one to anyone who came to visit. He loved everyone and never met a stranger. He always looked sharp with his bow tie or bandana. His big brown eyes were filled with love, and his tiny pit bull kisses made even my worst days better. He was my sweet boy but didn't hesitate to protect his family. He acted tough while patrolling the yard for squirrels or possums, despite being afraid of Granny's cat. His bingo bones were his treasures, and he loved burying them under my pillow. When Glock's body started to fail him, God called him home to Heaven. Now he buffalos through the clouds instead of limping around in pain. Although he is no longer by my side, at the end of the bed or riding shotgun in the car, I'll remember him forever by the paw prints on my heart. The bond we shared will never fade.I know we'll be together again at the Rainbow Bridge.
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