Tails of Two Dogs

“If it’s true that your life flashes in front of you before you die, then I think I got a preview of what that might be like Wednesday. It was a beautiful clear morning when I awoke at 5am and went in search of the coffee press and my Boo dog. At 14 she’s had a wonderful life, but over the last several months I have watched her slowly fade, so I felt uneasy when I awoke and she was not asleep next to my bed. The night had been cool and the sky clear, so I had left the back door open so she could step out and enjoy the night air on the deck. She was often restless in her old age. So when I found her lifeless, and stretched out as if peacefully sleeping, it was with great sadness that I sat down next to her and gently stroked her white furry neck. She was soft and warm to my touch. It was as if she had left just moments before I came down the stairs. As I stroked her soft fur, my mind was quickly flooded with wonderful memories, flashing through my mind, as if someone had just turned on a hundred televisions in my head. They were all visions of the life I had shared with my friend and companion for the last ten years, who loved me and brought great comfort to the very deepest part of my soul, and did so unconditionally. As I closed my eyes and tried to take it all in, I could almost feel and smell the warm summer breezes as I watched her jump through tall brown grass, feel the crisp air and see her breath as we walked a quiet trail on Mount Baker as the snow fell around us, saw the smile, the happy glint in her wide eyes and that silly pink tongue hanging out her mouth as we sped down the highway in the convertible. Unlike her sister, Boo went on her terms, after a quick but peaceful decline. She was almost completely blind and deaf, yet always found her way around the house, ate like a miniature horse and still loved belly rubs, wagging her tail and making groaning noises when I rubbed her behind the ears just right. Just two years ago, her sister Sadie, my big lab lap dog, had cancer and had to be sent on her way. The vet, who graciously made the house call, quickly set Sadie free while she–none the wiser–enjoyed a hamburger and chocolate shake on a blanket in my front yard. I cannot put into words how hard that was, to hold her, while she took her last breath in my arms. I’m not a man who prays, but I had wished with all my heart the last few weeks, to not have to hold Boo the same way and make that life and death choice for her. And that wish came true, and for that, I am grateful. But I wish I had been there this morning, on the deck and under the stars, to say goodbye, to thank her to hold her one last time. Death rarely has the best timing, whether it’s a beloved pet or human. I miss my friend tonight. My house is too quiet. She won’t be sharing a bite of my evening hamburger, my morning eggs, or the two Cheerios and sip of milk I used to leave in the bottom of my cereal bowl for her as part of our morning ritual. The simplest of things made her incredibly happy. She always pretended to take interest in what I had to say about my day. She could make a bad day right, with just a look. As I pulled in the driveway tonight, I watched for her out of habit, I expected to see her waiting for me by the fence, like she did almost every day. I went to leave to grab a bite to eat and found myself saying out loud, “I’m going out for a bit—be right back”. But she’s gone. Wrapped in her favorite blanket, put to rest peacefully and with the utmost of care, next to her sister under the shade of several giant pines. Her favorite toys and a rib bone by her side. I can feel her presence tonight. I wish I could scratch her behind the ears one more time. I hope that her life flashed before her eyes, as she lay alone under the stars this morning. Because she had an extraordinary life filled with love and adventure. I take comfort now, knowing that those images would have made her smile and brought her peace; of leaping through tall grass, chasing rabbits (for real and in her dreams), steak bones, Jeep rides, long walks, hugs, fires in the woodstove, and her sister Sadie. If dogs go to heaven, Boo went there this morning. I dream of her meeting Sadie again for the first time. I see a huge maple tree up on a hill, with its tall, thick trunk and giant arms covered with beautiful dark green leaves. Big Sadie lies sleeping the morning away in its shade, unaware of the approaching short white furry hunter, bouncing like a deer through the grass that stands so much taller than she does. Her white coat is again pure as snow, her eyes are again brilliant and see all, and she can once again hear Sadie snoring from a mile a way. As she loved to do so often, it seems so long ago, she sneaks up from behind, and pounces on her prey, startling Sadie whom returns a growl and quick snap before realizing whom it is. Her sister is home! I see them both, in all their younger glory, smiling only as a dog can smile, seen by me, only as a dog lover can see. Their mutual sniffs and greetings finished, they turn towards me one last time. I know. I can see it in their eyes, and in the way they cock their heads and tilt their ears, and the way they wag their tails. They are happy dogs, they are together again, they love me but they must go. They are ready for new adventures. They turn and pass the big maple, heading over the crest of the hill, tails wagging, as their walk becomes an easy trot and the two tails disappear from my sight.  – In memory of Boo and Sadie Chesson