Yesterday we had to put our boxer to sleep. Today the house is strangely empty. No dog underfoot, no dog poking me with his nose to ask to go out. No dog. He came into our lives one January, as a rescue. A happy go-lucky boxer, eager to please, healed from his heartworm, rescued from the streets. He gave unconditional love, wagging his stumpy little tail, and slobbering all over us. When the UPS man, the cable guy, the heating and air conditioning guy or anyone else came, he stood guard at the door looking fierce. His scary looking boxer face belied the sweet, gentle disposition lurking underneath. Some people were scared of him, but those who knew boxers would warm right up to him. Puppy baby would sometimes stand between me and those he considered not savory, and I knew exactly what he was telling me...beware. Puppy baby loved to sit on the chairs in the family room and wore out the upholstery! He had an 8 inch thick firm foam bed, custom made by my me, so that he could sleep comfortably in our room at night. As he got older, he loved that bed more and more. We had rituals, a morning and evening walk, chasing the neighborhood cats out of the yard. He loved cats, but the cats did not know it, and ran. He was scared of our old cat, and even after that cat died, he was afraid to go upstairs, fearing that cat would leap out at him and hiss. He was the light of our lives, the kids and grandkids all adored him. Yesterday, it was very difficult to explain to the little ones where our puppy baby went. Their second experience with death. We talked about what a soul is, and that his doggie soul went to heaven to be with Auntie Mary who would watch over him and love him. That he would not be alone and scared because Mary and God were with him. Yes, we would miss him, but we could always remember what a good dog he was, and how much he loved each and every one of us.
So, puppy baby, go with God, we will remember you with much love in our hearts.
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