"He needs a yard to run around in," the volunteer told me. At the time I was disappointed, but there were plenty of other dogs there, fortunately, I never got the chance to look at another one. "Can you you hang around for a few minutes," the volunteer asked. "I think your dog is on the way."
My dog? My dog. I was intrigued, but here I am three and a half years later and there was never really any doubt that a nine year old flat-coated retriever/border collie mix would have made such a difference in my life. There were plenty of reasons why I shouldn't have taken him home, and he wouldn't have minded one bit, but I did.
Two months back I laid my friend to rest after three and a half years of adventures that neither of us could have imagined. I'm grateful for the great times we had and that well before the end I had figured out exactly what the criteria were for determining the time was right to say goodbye. I miss him terribly, but I'm glad knowing he's in a better place now and that he went there without me prolonging his suffering to lengthen our time together.
This blog is for Boo Boo and for my new senior buddy, Rusty, and all of those senior dogs that make a difference in their owners' lives.
