by Pa Rock
Four souls have called this little house their home for the past several years: me and my little dog, Rosie, and my son Nick and his large Boston terrier, Riley. We had spent many months developing our routines, adjusting and learning to live in close proximity to one another in a calm and orderly manner, but now that calm existence has been has been shaken.
Riley passed away yesterday afternoon, and today there is a big hole in our lives.
Riley looked like a Boston terrier, but he was actually about the size of two standard Bostons. His usual weigh was around fifty pounds, leading to the suspicion that a standard bulldog had been introduced to his bloodline at some point. And Riley had a bulldog attitude which he showed by standing his ground whenever he did not want to do something.
Riley would eat his food, aggressively, and if Rosie ignored hers he would snarf that up as well. But Rosie was the boss when it came to toys and creature comforts. When I would bring them the occasional chew toy following a visit to town, Rosie would quickly hide hers and then wait for an opportunity to make off with his. In the evenings after Rosie had retired for the night, Riley would search the house until he came up with one of the toys, which he would then enjoy away from the pesky little dog. But Riley loved Rosie in spite of her occasional thievery, and he would rush to her defense any time he felt there was danger.
Riley also monitored the kitchen and knew when I was preparing my lunch. As soon as my meal was ready, he would position himself close by and wait patiently for me to finish, knowing that he and Rosie would score the final couple of bites of whatever I as enjoying. It was impossible to not respond to those big eyes and that wry smile that was always on his face!
Riley, who would have been twelve in September, became sick a few days ago and began sleeping almost continuously. It soon became obvious that he was shutting down, and Nick, who has had Riley since he was a pup, stayed by his side constantly hoping for a change in his condition. Yesterday afternoon when it was clear that Riley was suffering and stood no chance of recovery, Nick bundled him up for his last ride to the vet. I drove the sad party to the vet's office, but Nick took him into the exam room alone where, after consultation with the doctor, he made the difficult decision to have his dog, the most stable presence in his life for the last dozen years, put to sleep.
And today grief weighs heavy on our hearts.
2 comments:
So sorry. Pets can become family when given the chance.
My condolences. It's difficult to get over pet loss. I still think of the long lost dog my former mother-in-law and I once picked from a walk in a rural mountain park. He followed us all through our walk as an abandoned puppy, and when my mother-in-law put him in her bicycle basket, saying we will see if he comes with us all the way to my house or jumps out; in the latter case, it's his fate. He came to her house and became her and her husband's pet till he died after 12 years of life. I visited their house once or twice a year, and while I stayed there for each short visit, I walked him with my former husband. He was a mix of a German Shephard, so he grew big. Yes, this dog helped me get rid of my fear with big dogs. I suppose you may remeber how I was afraid of your former colleague and vice principal's big grey pet dog back in Mountain View in year 1981-1982 while I stayed there with you and your family. May you and Nick help each other from your loss.
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