Jimmy boy!

To the right, you can see Jimmy. He was a good dog. An outside dog, but a good dog. He was not allowed inside the house and whenever you did bend the rules and call him in, he'd just look at you like "Are you crazy?" He lived with us since he was a puppy until he was like 9 years old. He got lost in Chicago, June 6th, 1998. (My 19th birthday). Dad was so upset and so was the rest of the family. We had to pull ourselves together and show our "Happy" faces at my cousin's wedding because I was gonna be one of the bridesmaids. The whole event sucked. We searched for him for about a month and then finally gave up. We still think of him but now know for a fact he's dead because dogs can't live to more than 15 years of age. Can't they?