And then G-d Laughed.
I was home after a hard day at work, late May, days before Memorial Day. Doing what I loved to do at the end of a day, rubbing my buddy up. Then I noticed what felt like a small marble in his neck. Somehow I knew right away it was not good. The appointment to the vet the next week would confirm our worst fears. Sue returned home after taking him, walked into the house and burst out crying " Lymphoma". My hiking partner, only 4 years old, would be gone soon. The news hit me so hard. I had created this world where Rock & I would hike together, often just the 2 of us, and now that world was shattered. My whole family was hurt, and by family that includes anyone who has spent some time with us at our log cabin in the woods. If you came as a friend of our family you left as Rock's pack mate. The news would spread, the notes would come, a lot of folks were affected by our little rescue puppy. Anyone who walked a few miles in the woods with him grew to love and respect him. It literally was impossible not to.
The next seven weeks were hard. We would have to watch the fast moving cancer slow him down. For such a high spirited dog this was tough to see. But not for him. He would still chase his footballs, still go on some walks, albeit shorter, with me, and generally show few signs of sickness other than tiring quickly. And the swelling of his glands. He was literally jumping off the ground for football catches the night before we said goodbye. He had no quit in him. It made him my ultimate partner, and I began grieving his loss weeks before he was gone. Then a wise friend gave me some great advice.
" You need to Dog Think, like him. Stay in the moment. He is still happy & with you. Think like him."
He was right you know. Rock wasn't worried like a person would be, he wasn't cluttering his mind with thoughts of wonderful days past, or concerns of future hikes not taken. He was still Rock, still happy, still living a great day to day existence. I marveled at his spirit in the last weeks of his life, trying to capture it for my heart and my soul for eternity. Our bond was unlike any I've ever had with an animal, and frankly very few humans have gotten as close to me as he did. We could hike for hours without speech, no words were necessary anymore. He knew what he had to do and did it . Always.
Before I finish my tribute please allow me to bore you with some interesting behavioral stats from this guy. We met him at 8 weeks old, and since then:
Never went to the bathroom in our house. Never.
Never ran away from us. Never.
Never gave us 1 disciplinary issue. Never
So the time came to say goodbye. It was the first time in his existence that I would use the word docile. He was such a live wire, such a happy spirit, who had found his home in our lives, far from the dusty streets of Arkansas where it began. And he would leave a mark on me that I will be lucky to hold and cherish for all my remaining time. He was the dog that got me to care about myself again, to quit smoking, to lose 50 pounds. When no human could get me to want to do those things, this beautiful boy did. I will honor him by never smoking again, by continuing to try to improve myself. The hikes without him will not be the same. I will carry his ashes in my pack, and we will climb these mountains together. For I would not be on any of them without his steady and consistent help, and love. Rest in Peace Buddy, and Thank You.
