Losing a Pet

Our dog, Corky, died tonight. He was 15 years old. That's a pretty old dog. We knew that he wasn't doing well lately. It was harder to walk. Harder to stand on tile. Harder to see. But he WAS a good dog right until the end.

Fifteen years. I haven't had any pets that long (except for our cat which we got around the same time). Suddenly the years came flooding back to me. I could see him as a puppy laying by Sushi (the cat). They loved playing together. I could picture him running in the big backyard of our former house. He loved people. He loved to talk to them when they passed by. He would run along the fence barking out his "hellos" to anyone who would come and pet him.

Our older boys grew up with him. He's always been there. I've seen him climb into their beds to sleep (even though he was QUITE large). I've seen him curl up with them and let them lay on him while they watched TV. I have even brought him inside for "protection" on nights when I am alone in the house (not that I think he would have done much more than lick their faces).

My in-laws loved him. They spoiled him. He loved going to their house and playing inside. Grandma rubbed him with her feet and he would lay there and just enjoy the attention.

He was a good dog. It was his time. I am thankful for the years that he was part of our family. In some ways, his death makes me think about all of the other pets that have been a part of my life: Taffy, Tuppence, Buffy, Muffin, and others. Even if they are only here for a short time, it's a significant time. They bring us joy.

I feel some guilt tonight also. Some of you know that I have been "hoping" for this day for a while. I didn't really "want" him to die. I just felt bad because his big back yard was gone. He couldn't come inside as often due to incontinence. It was painful to watch. And yet, even yesterday with my nieces, he seemed to enjoy watching them run around him in our kitchen. My youngest niece called him "The Big Puppy" everytime she stepped over him. That's really what he was. All fifteen years, he was a big puppy waiting to love those with whom he came in contact. I'm glad the big puppy was a part of our family.

Goodbye Corky. We'll miss you.