A Sorrowful Passing

 Tonight I'm going to write one of the saddest posts that I've ever done. Today around noon, our beloved dog Rigby passed on.  These pictures were taken just over a month ago, but when he passed today, he was just a fraction of the size that he was when these were taken. Over the past month he had steadily been losing weight. His ribs were starting to show and the skin on his belly was hanging. He's always loved to eat, and I indulged him. The kids were constantly telling me he was spoiled, but I don't care. My feelings were that if you were going to have a pet, and especially a dog, he was going to be getting the royal treatment. I've been thinking back over his life, from the time that our daughter Autumn first brought him down from Wasilla in a small carrying case that fit under the airplane seat. He was as cute as a button. For the first week or so he slept in that case in the laundry room and would cry at night. Eventually we purchased a small bed for him, but as dogs and kids are prone to do, he grew out of it. We got him a bed made for a much larger dog, but that's ok, at least he had room to move around. For the first few months he never even barked, and I was starting to wonder if he ever would, but he eventually found his voice, and from then on he would alert us to every dog, cat or person who passed on the street out front. Multiple times I would be in the back of the house or in the office and if he hadn't barked I would have had no idea that there was a visitor on the porch.  During the day he favored the couch, and then one day he decided on his own to jump up onto the back of the couch where he could get a birds eye view of all that was going on. That was his habit until a year or two ago, when either because of his age or the condition of his joints or whatever, he didn't jump up there any more. When he was younger he would sit in the chair with me, and though the chair was huge, would insist on laying on his side with his legs stretched out against the arm and pushing me against the other side. When it was time to go to bed I would get up, but he had no intention of leaving the comfort of the chair, so I would have to pick him up with a hand under his head and one under his backside and take him in to his bed. He was as limp as a wet towel and would look at whoever was in the living room perhaps hoping for rescue. I would lay him on his bed and cover him with a heavy down sleeping bag, where he would stay for the night. Early on, when we were training him to go outside to the potty, we would reward him with a snack- usually a piece of cheese. Being the stubborn breed he was, it almost always took a bribe to get him back inside. After a while the price of cheese was more than we could afford. He was making regular trips outside with the idea that he'd get a snack afterwards. I think he was storing up his treasures with the idea of a future reward, so we switched to the healthier and less expensive baby carrots. We ran through several bags of those every week. Some years back I got the bright idea of giving him a little bit of cereal in the morning when I got my own. At first he would eat it dry. Then one day I poured a little milk on it, and from then on he wouldn't accept it any other way. His tastes in food were diverse. Whenever I was making a salad, he would insist on having some. He ate everything that we did, with the exception of onions or celery. If I was cutting up cucumber, tomatoes, lettuce, carrots or any other salad fixings, he wanted some. When it came to food, he wasn't picky. We had a scare once when an older lady was staying with us and left a box of chocolate cookies in her jacket, which was hanging on a chair. He found it and ate every one. I understand that chocolate is fatal for dogs, but somehow he made it through without a problem. As a young dog he loved to go upstairs, especially when we had guests. If there was any dirty underwear on the floor he would grab them and charge down the stairs, running though the house, happy as a clam at high tide. He would stop then and start chewing on them, looking  up with his big brown eyes. It was hard to be mad at him. I think the greatest joy he ever had was charging down the stairs one day with Jan's bra in his mouth, trailing behind and between his legs. It almost looked like he was smiling. He never really played with toys much, but he did like to chew on things. We had a stuffed toy that was like a fluffy fleece shaped like a boy with two arms and two legs splayed out. His snout would fit perfectly into the crotch where he would proceed to chew until the stuffing was exposed. He loved that doll. It was bright yellow and we called it Golden Boy. Golden boy had his crotch sewed up by Jan's mom a number of times until there wasn't enough material left to sew. We tried other chew toys for him- a rubber hot dog, and I think a hamburger, and I don't recall what else, but nothing could withstand those sharp little teeth. Within an hour the toy was demolished and we had to take it away.Finally Jan came home with a toy made out of almost indestructable fire hose. I'm not sure how long it took for him to destroy it, but I do wish it had had a warranty with it. When he was still young a neighbor dog attacked him one morning while Jan was with him. Frankly I was surprised he survived the attack, but he did. Afterwards though, he never wanted to get very far away from the house. He never really cared for riding in the truck, but in the last year or so he would drive with me to the park and then walk home. It was good exercise for both of us. About eight or ten months ago, I can't really recall when, he started developing a tremendous thirst. He would drink all the water in his bowl and want more. Then he had to pee something fierce, something I can relate to. He started having accidents in the house, so we sent him to the vet, and $700.00 later discovered he had Cushing's Disease, so in addition to giving him a pill for hypo-thyroidism, we now had to give him one for Cushing's. He seemed to be getting better, but about a month ago the thirst and accidents started in again. We got an additional dose of meds, but he didn't seem to be getting any better this time. He'd been steadily losing weight, and for the last four or so days, was having trouble going up and down the stairs. It got to the point that we had to pick him up and set him down outside to use the potty. About three days ago, he stopped eating. Then he stopped drinking anything, so we were giving him water with a turkey baster. He spent most of his time in his bed looking off in the distance. Even though we knew his time was near, there was still a hope for a miraculous recovery. In any event, we didn't want him to die away from home, so we kept him as comfortable as we could and spoke to him, letting him know what a good dog he was. He's only been gone for about eight hours, but already I miss him terribly. It's surprising how many commercials come on TV that use dogs. I love them all, but I don't think I can ever have another one. I think I'll probably visit a shelter at the next place we move to. I'll take the dogs out for walks and feed them treats and hug them and talk to them like they're babies, and let them know that even though they're in the shelter, they're still loved. Jan and I are heart broken. For us Rigby was like a family member. We had him for almost thirteen years, but it wasn't long enough. I hope that if you have a pet you'll cherish it. They can be demanding and expensive and they take a lot of time, but they are a blessing from God.