She was ~50 pounds and 13 years old, so she was elderly in dog terms, but that's of course a mixed blessing because after a dozen years (we adopted her at a year old) we're missing her pretty badly. Already half a dozen times this morning I've looked for her, and I'm not even the one who usually walked her.
The kids are doing okay; I told them last night while Chad was still at the vet, and they had some tears [*] and some questions, but were consolable. So far today, the Pip said that it felt like a different day because Emmy wasn't here, and noted that she wasn't sitting next to him at breakfast (her usual spot during every meal). And at bedtime Emmy liked to sleep in SteelyKid's room or on the landing at the top of the stairs, and after the kids were in bed she'd keep me company in the library as I did the night-owl thing, and and and . . .
Best Emmy ever.
[*] Which the Pip insisted was caused by the light in his eyes, because apparently toxic masculinity is a thing even when you're four.
Chad's dog archives, mine.