Osama went to meet his Maker today.
And it didn't take a team of Navy SEALS.
Just one cranky old man with a shotgun.
He crashed hard and heavy, and as his final tweak, went down sprawled out up against the main gate to the pasture.
After we dragged him over to the side so we could open the gate, we went in the house to prepare for the deed. I looked out the window, and Sancho had come up to see what was going on, leaned down to give Osama a sniff. I knew it was truly time when Osama pinned back his ears and tried to spit but couldn't. Went out with his boots on. He may not have been able to give the donkey what for, but everyone could see that he was ticked, nonetheless.
He was lots of fun while we had him. Gonna miss that freak.
Having a hard year.
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