One Less Good Dog

 

He was old, overweight, clumsy, perpetually underfoot and a little dim.

He was also sweet-natured, patient, affectionate and (unless you were a cat) very mellow.

We are going to miss him terribly.

I found him on a chilly Sunday morning, lying on the rug in Michael's office, just exactly the way I'd found him asleep too many times to count. Only this time he didn't rouse, didn't sigh and stretch and slowly get to his feet.

He was, I realized in that fraction of a second before I reached down to shake him awake, dead. It appeared to have been peaceful and just before I began to cry, I had a moment of gratitude. I've lost count of the number of times I've prayed to God to take a sick little one in his or her sleep. This time, although the death was sudden and completely unexpected, God had apparently been watching, maybe even waiting.

I covered him with a blanket and sat down to think of what to do next. I couldn't quite bear the thought of calling Michael to let him know and besides it was barely 7 in the morning – there was no chance of getting Michael so early – but I also couldn't keep a dead dog laid out on the floor. Moving 70 pounds of pit bull was clearly not something I could do alone and even if I managed to get him outside, then what?

When Sweetie died, we called Nathaniel, the young man who tends the yard, and he came and dug the grave. I made the call and then called Michael.

I’m not one who favors big dogs but this one - so gentle and with such huge, soulful eyes - had always had special place in my heart. He was hard of hearing and his vision was bad, he often stumbled going up and down the steps, he had no sense of personal space and no idea of his size and weight. One swing of his head was enough to knock me off my feet and he terrorized passersby and mail carriers by his appearance alone but he loved people and was really not much more than a massive lapdog. Watching Nathaniel dig the grave was profoundly sad.

Rest in peace, old man. You were a fine dog and our lives won’t be the same without you.