My dog and I went walking slowly at first, painfully so, but then he sped up. I noticed my dog getting taller. No, not taller… he was just moving upward, as if he were stepping up on invisible stairs.
Once he was high up enough for me to have to raise my leash arm I asked him, “Where you going?”
“I’m ascending, kid.” he responded.
“It can’t be time yet…” I muttered.
“‘..no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place’” he said.
“Never.” I said.
His invisible steps were so high up now that the leash was taut and I struggled to hold it.
“I’ll lose my way.” I implored.
He stopped for a moment, looked at me gently and said. “‘Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what’s left and live it properly.’”
“I won’t miss you quoting philosophers.”, I said.
“It’s a little pretentious, but that’s my love language.” he responded.
He walked up and I held the leash tighter. “Let go or be dragged.” he said.
”I don’t want to.”
“You must.”
He walked on, pulling the leash away from my hands as he ascended, walking up till I couldn’t see him anymore.
I stared up far too long.
Then I walked away.
Of course, none of that actually happened. Instead, my dog grew old.
A few weeks ago my dog Rudy started walking slower. He was getting old, so that was to be expected. Then he’d stop walking to take a frequent breaks. Again, he was pushing 90 in dog years, so to be expected. He was otherwise health, was just in to the vet a few months ago.
In the last week he couldn’t walk much at all. We tried, but he’d stumble. We called our vet on Thursday and the soonest they could see us was Monday.
His health took a turn for the worse. First he couldn’t walk more than 20 feet, then 10, then not at all.
I’d carry him around, to relieve himself outside or for his bath. He could lift his head very well after a while, so I’d lift it so I could look at his face.
He wouldn’t eat much either. My wife was cooking him steak and chicken, and my son and I would hand feed him. But by Sunday he stopped eating.
We kept him comfortable as best we could, giving him love and medicine, water and treats, hope and praying.
Monday morning he couldn’t get up at all. My vet is only about a mile and a half away, so I decided to put him in a wagon so my son and I could take him on one last walk.
At the vet we got the news we’d expected. He went peacefully, and I stayed with him afterwards. I tried to leave the room several times but kept turning back for one last hug.
I stayed far too long.
Then I walked away.
We lost both of our dogs of 14 years within the last 5 months. In fact, Rudy died almost to the day as his buddy Socrates.
Both were rescue dogs, and we loved them to pieces.
If you ever want a dog, please consider a shelter dog. All dogs are wonderful, but shelter dogs need you. We’re going to do the same.
While on our last walk we found this giant letter D on the ground.
There’s a joke there somewhere, I’m sure of it.
Mike
A beautiful fictionalization of your good boy's passing. Much love to you and your family ♥