Farewell, my friend

You have been gone a week now. I have dreamed about you every night since that sunny morning, and although I may not have showed it outwardly, I have cried frequently inwardly at the thought of you. I am sitting here on the couch with your best friend, and I can see your loss in her eyes too. In my dreams, I can still see the liquid brown of your eyes, intently watching my every move to see if you might be needed at my side. I can see my tears glistening on your silky black fur, or feel my fingers stroking your butter soft ears. If I lay quitely on my back, I can almost feel you sneaknig up in the bed next to me, and the two of us falling asleep again in perfect moment comfort and bliss.

I remember the first time I saw you. My husband and I searched Dumb Friends up and down for a black lab. I wanted a husky or a malamute. He wanted a black lab. We looked at several. ... few we liked and they got adopted out from under us. We decided to try another day.

As we were leaving, there was a picture of you on the counter, grinning, eyes sparkling, and tongue hanging out. You had been there for 5 months.

We walked back down the rows of pleading eyes and mournful howls to look at you. You were standing high up in the enclosure, not barking at the people that were walking by, but at the people behind the scenes.

We took you back in to a room to see if you were the one for us, and it was the first time of many I would see your greeting gesture, head low, grinning from ear to ear and tail wagging in wide furious sweeps behind you.

We put you in the car and took you home. I watched you stick your head out the window and taste the wind, ears flapping behind you. I got the feeling it was the first time you had that experience. Later I read in the adoption papers that you spent your years tied to a tree and they gave you up because you "weren't much fun."

We took you to Wash park to meet my brother that night. The air was chilly and as we stood under a lamp, I admired the glossy black of your fur, and the excitement and joy in your eyes.


I remember our long walks through Chatfield resevoir. You ran and played like you were making up for lost time. The memory of walking through that grove of trees in the snow, under a gray sky when the world was silent is still clear in my mind. You had trotted up ahead in search of good smells and territory to mark, and I followed at my own pace taking in the metallic smell of snow in the air and the crunch of it under my feet. I glanced up to see where you were, and you turned around and looked at the same time. You bounded back to me at top speed, and did a happy dance around me, tossing up chunks of snow and steaming up the air around us with your panting. It was one of those moments of perfect joy, communicated clearly between 2 species.

My heart still cringes to remember the first time we almost lost you. It was one of our snow walks through the resevoir. I saw you trot up over a hill and then heard your howls of panic. I raced over the hill and my heart sunk out of my chest when I saw that you had gone out on the thin ice of the pond and fallen through. I watched in helpless panic as you struggled to get a purchase on the ice, and repeatedly lost it and slid under the water. I remember the panic in your eyes. A woman saw us and told me to go around the pond where the ice was thinner. It seemed to take an eternity to get you back to the shore with me. You would scramble at the ice, it would break and you would go under again. Each time I was terrified that your head wouldn't pop back up again. You finally made it and we ran to the car. I bundled you in a blanket and raced you home. I was in anguish all day over it. You curled up on the couch and slept snuggled up next to me, your near death seemingly forgotten and replaced by the thought of being on a soft couch next to your people.


I remember the pissing contest you had with Jace. We had just come home for the evening, and he left the bathroom door open after he ran in to relieve himself. You pulled up along side him and started whizzing on the floor in time with him, looking up at him with a doofy somewhat proud grin on your face. We laughed so hard we cried.

He also fed you a bean burrito...I remember the embarrassed look on your face when I came home to small piles of what looked exactly like bean burrito on the rug. I never ate one again by the way.

You went with me everywhere you could. You made my heart happy with your antics and quiet evenings curled up together.

Then came the second time we almost lost you. You stopped eating, and lost all of that glossy black fur. You got weaker and weaker. The vet kept telling us to change your diet, give you this and that antibiotic. Shortly afterwards you couldn't stand up anymore, and a friend and I had to carry you to my car to take you to a different vet. You had Addison's disease. I went to see you every day in dog ICU and tried to tell you when you got better you could leave that wire cage and come home again. Now we both took medication every day and shots. I could tell when you weren't feeling good, and when the disease took the gusto out of you, and you seemed to know when I was going through the same thing. We would lay on the bed and stare at the wall or out the window..to tired to think about doing anything else. I remember how hard you struggled to still wag your tail or lick my face, even though you were so sick you could only lay on the floor.

We taught you to swim, which after the ice incident was nothing short of miraculous. We would throw your tennis ball in shallow water working deeper until you had to swim to get it. Jace had to get in the water to lure you in and you would stand on the shore and howl and whine and carry on until people came to see what was wrong. The first time you actually swam, you looked panicked as all hell and flapped your paws above the water like you were trying to levitate. Jace and I stood on the shore and whooped and laughed, jumping up and down we were so proud of you. You got back to the shore with your ball, tail wagging in that familiar happy wide sweep. We couldn't keep you out of the water after that.
And there was that winter before we moved, when we got 4 feet of snow. We let you out to see it, and all we could see was the tip of your tail bouncing over the edge of the snow banks as you sniffed your way around the huge banks of cold. Nothing seemed to phase you or bother you, every experience was something that must be investigated and enjoyed thoroughly.

We bought a house and brought you to it. You thought the dog door was a cool game and I remember the look of excitement on your face that came with the realization that you could get out in the yard at any time. It was like the house was built just for the 3 of us.

We decided after buying a house, that we had room for a friend for you, and that's how Rosie came in to our life. We had so much fun together, and you grew to love each other in your own ways.

We went camping with my brother a few summers ago. You played fetch at high altitude (we didn't know how high up we were at the time, but we all ran out of breath easily on that trip).I took you down to the lake to try and catch some fish for dinner, but had to take you back to the camp because you kept chasing the lure in to the lake. We didn't catch any fish that day. That night we all ate peanut butter pretzels and steak, which you thought was a pretty good meal.

We didn't have a tent so the 3 of us curled up in my car to sleep. You guys seemed kind of baffled at first, but soon the car was filled with all of us snoozing. The next morning, I woke up first, and you two opened your eyes when I moved around. I watched with a smile as the realization dawned on both of you that we had slept at "the park" and we were still there. You both jumped up and couldn't wait to get out of the car and go sniff around some more.

As we drove back down the mountain, I saw your face in my rear view mirror, grinning like you were getting a good butt scratch. I realized you did indeed have your butt sticking out the back window, in the wind. I laughed so hard I had trouble steering.

I can't count the memories of our walks and adventures together. We all watched leaves turn in the fall, and felt them crunch under our feet, padded through snow and chased snowballs, watched for the first green of spring and swam through the summer. You taught me to live in the moment and to be more aware of my surroundings.

I would cook you dinners when Jace was at band practice. The 3 of us would munch on salmon, you guys got berries with yours. Then we would all curl up on the couch together until he came home.

When I think of you, I think of love...unconditional and pure, through thick and thin, good days and bad. In the worst of times you were quietly there for me, and would let me cry in to your fur. When I was done, you would thump your tail and gently lick the tears from my face. There were times I would look in to your eyes and it seemed you knew my soul.

A few years ago, you started sneaking up in the bed on weekend mornings. You would stretch alongside me and put your head on my chest, and we would fall back asleep, warm and happy. When you felt me wake up your tail would thump happily on the bed, and we would all get up and start the day.

The third time we weren't so lucky. It is so recent it is hard to type out, but I promised to write a tribute to you, preserve your memory in any way I can. A few weeks ago, I got up to the kitchen. I expected to hear your paws clicking behind me just in case there was food involved. You followed me everywhere. I turned around and you were standing in the living room, tail down, sorrowful look on your face. I came back over to you and you collapsed on the floor.

I hoped it was just your Addison's, but my gut said something different. I wrapped you in a blanket and laid on the floor next to you until Jace could come home to get you to the vet. I could not conceive of losing you, and not seeing those brown eyes in the morning, or hear your thumping tail.

The vet couldn't tell us what was wrong. You were anemic and dehydrated. It wasn't your Addisnon's disease.

We had to bring you back for an ultra sound, and that's when we got the bad news. You had a tumor in your stomach slowly bleeding. The vet said you probably had about 3 days left, before it opened fully and you bled to death. She said to do the things you loved, and let you have a cheeseburger maybe.

We decided to take you to the park. It was such a beautiful fall day and it was your favorite place to be. You and Rosie trotted along happily and played and swam as if there weren't a ticking time bomb in your belly, waiting to take you away from us. Jace and I followed, holding hands and crying over a future you weren't aware of.

I thought we were going to lose you that night. You laid on the couch barely able to move. Even then, as I cried in to your fur yet again, you tried to comfort me, licking my face and thumping your tail weakly. I held you close and you made such a huge effort to lift your head up to look in to my eyes.

We didn't lose you that night. I let you sleep in the bed all night with us. I was afraid to go to sleep, worried that I would wake up and you would be gone. You stopped breathing a few times and I held my own breath. I didn't want you to suffer but I didn't want you to leave either.

The next morning you got up as though nothing had happened. Your tail wagged and your eyes sparkled. We fed you anything you begged for...pop tarts, cheeseburgers, macaroni and fish. We used to joke about how dramatically you would beg for our food. Your eyes would dilate, your ears would perk forward and you would hold perfectly still with only an occassional string of drool. We used to joke that you were saying "If only I could have a bit of that (insert food) before I died, I would be a happy dog." How cursedly real that was now. I was glad that I got the chance to give you a bite of everything you wanted in those last days. You even had waffles. I joked again at one point, that you had never had chocolate cake. Jace and I agreed that when the time came, you would get a piece of it to have something good to go out with.

3 Days passed and you were still going strong. We went to the park, and you two went everywhere with me.

Every extra day with you was a blessing..a day I thought we wouldn't get. At night you would curl up with me in the bed, and the days were spent humoring your whims.
I had planned to go to New Mexico for my birthday. I worried that you would leave while I was gone. I struggled over whether or not to go.

The night before I was supposed to leave, you followed me around as I packed, tail wagging and happily snacking every time I passed the kitchen cupboard. Then around 10, you were standing in the living room with you tail down, and that sad look in your eyes. Part of me hoped it was just temporary, and you would rally like you did before. The look in your eyes said otherwise this time. I tried to give you a spoon of peanut butter with your medication, and you didn't even want to eat it. My heart sank.

We helped you upstairs, and Jace helped you get on the bed. He slept in the guest room that night, so we could have a last cuddle comfortably on the bed. I held you close to me and felt you struggle, your breathing becoming ragged then even as you dozed in and out of sleep.

At some point, I had fallen asleep myself, and was woken suddenly. I opened my eyes and in the darkness saw you had lifted your head off the bed, and were staring intently at my face. We lay there for a few minutes looking at each other. I was trying to etch the lines of your face in to my mind forever. It almost seemed you were doing the same. I cried quietly, and you again licked the tears away. We slept lightly, you head curled in to my neck and I could feel your breath in my ear.

I did not want you to suffer. I told you that, and that if you needed to go, it was ok. I wanted to remember you as my happy goober head, vibrant and full of life, head low in that greeting you gave only me. I dreaded the morning, because I knew in order to keep you from suffering, we would have to put you to sleep.

Jace came back home from work. you thumped your tail at him, and his eyes watered up as he pulled out a package of chocolate zingers. He remembered our promise to let you have chocolate cake before you died. You had refused everything up to that point, peanut butter, cheese, water..but your head lifted up off the bed and your tail kept thumping as you gobbled down the zinger.

You were too weak to even stand and he carried you down the stairs. We knew it was your time when you didn't even fuss at him for picking you up.

I sat in the back seat as we drove slowly to the vet. You showed your strength and lust for life one more time, struggling to lift yourself up to sit so you could see out of the window. I watched your nostrils twitch to take in all the smells, and watched the wind ruffle your fur and flap your ears for the last time.

We held you on a couch as the vet put you to sleep. Your favorite place to be at home..on the couch touching both of us.

I had an extra week with you I thought I wouldn't get, and now I am holding your empty collar wondering if I can ever love a being that much again.

I cried on the plane all the way to New Mexico. The stewardess gave me a whole can of diet sprite instead of just one cup, and another stewardess gave me a few bags of peanuts instead of one. I figured it was your spirit working on my behalf to get a little bit of extra food.

I thought about you all week, and told everyone my memories of you. You showed up in my dreams almost every night.

I came home last night. Rosie greeted me in the car happily, but I could see sorrow in her eyes, and lonliness. She never knew our home without you in it.

When I crawled in to bed last night, it still smelled like you, and there were little black hairs all over the sheets. It seems to much to bear right now...the thought of your tail not thumping in greeting in the morning.

I had a very vivid dream of you last night. You and Rosie came in through the dog door in to the living room. I was overjoyed to see you again and your dying in my dream just seemed like a bad dream. I called out to Jace "Max is back!" and touched your soft face again, and scratched your ears. In my dream Rosie's face was happy again, and your face was full of that benevolent love I was so used to seeing. I woke up and realized you were still indeed gone, but for a moment in that dream your ears were warm beneath my fingers and I got to look in to your eyes one more time.
I cried myself back to sleep.

This morning Rosie and I cuddled on the bed after Jace went to work. We lay there after I woke up and looked in to each others eyes for a few minutes. I can tell she misses you. She didn't want to get out of bed this morning, and her head hangs low as she walks around the house.
I made us oatmeal, and cried as I picked up one dog bowl instead of 2. Rosie ate hers and came back out to the living room. She doesn't have you to try and sneak food from anymore.

I guess the point of all of this is to express how much I loved you. A blog post can't hold all of the memories I have of you, or how you got me through some of the roughest and sad times of my life, or how happy our time together was. I am sure after the pain turns in to acceptance, I will have more memories of you that can't surface now.

I told you almost every day and I still feel it now...you were the bestest boy ever, my snuggle butt, my old man, my goober head, admiral melodrama, thumpy tail, my love, my Naughtius Maximus.