Tuesday night he was crying out in obvious distress. He hadn’t been awake for more than an hour a day for a several months but when he was awake he was cheerful and with some help could get around on his rickety legs. For a few weeks now he’s been getting obviously weaker, but slept peacefully. I couldn’t stand to see him distressed like that though, after a while he calmed down, sit up a little for a while, but then he’d just collapse a few minutes later. I had to no choice but to take him on that last ride yesterday morning. I’m sure in his mind he was going to ride it out just like all the other times in the past year, but he was in really bad shape. He didn’t even fight me carrying him out to the car, he hated to be picked up but he didn’t have any strength left. I’m sad now, I’ve lost my best friend, but I’m trying to celebrate his life instead of thinking about my own loss.
Blackjack was the best dog I’ve ever known, smart, strong, brave, loyal, every positive adjective you can apply to a dog needed to be expressed superlatively for him. Last Saturday he dragged himself outside to help me bring in the groceries from the car, that was his weekly job, to show me where the groceries were in the back and to show me the way back to the house. He took that responsibility seriously, it was something special for him, he was allowed out in the front without a leash to do his job. That was Blackjack, he was a working dog and he’d never slack off when there was work for him to do no matter how small the task.
I could go on and on, but I won’t, there’s too much to say, too much to remember. I’m going to miss him terribly. He was loved by everyone who ever met him. Even the big strong truck driving men who he used to scare to death would fall in love with him if they ever got to see him up close.
Just one more memory, just a couple of weeks ago during a thunderstorm he was highly agitated as usual, but he could hear the little yappy dog across the street barking in a clearly fearful tone. Blackjack stopped his usual fretting to listen to the little dog, and I could tell he cared more about that little guy than he did his own fear of the thunder. He was that kind of dog, he’d do anything for his friends.
My condolences on your loss, and I know it is a real one.
Dogs live long enough that you know you can’t live without them. Then you have to. Leet the Wonder Dog [sup]TM[/sup] also takes his role as grocery escort quite seriously (“Here’s a bag! Are you going to carry it into the house? It’s this way - hurry! Are you going back for more? I’ll make sure the way is clear!”)
I’m so sorry you’ve suffered such a profound loss. (Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! I believe losing a pet IS one of the most profound losses we suffer in life!)
Thanks for sharing his photos and his antics with us, I dislike when all I know of someone is that they just died! He sounds wonderful and looks adorable!
I remember when my Chihuahua Delmar died. I wasn’t prepared for the sadness. It was in his memory that we rescued a chihuahua puppy from a dumpster a few months later. I know it’s just coincidence, but I can’t help but occasionally engage in the foolishness of thinking he provided someone new to take the edge off the grief, as well as providing a decent home for a puppy who deserved it.
After reading the OP and seeing the pictures a dust storm must have come through my house.
**
TriPolar**, I am so sorry for your loss. As another poster said recently, “If there isn’t any Rainbow Bridge I’m going to be pissed.”
I think I know how you feel - I just lost my Monster Baby, at the same age.
You can accumulate a lot of love in your heart during the life of a pet, and then when they die, it feels like somebody just opens your chest and rips it all back out. It’s such an innocent little life, and to have it extinguished feels like a cosmic injustice, like any universe that plays by these rules must be a factory defect.
