I remember the emails well: I have
this foster dog, my best friend wrote, and I’m thinking
about keeping him.
This was a big deal. At the time, Sara
only had one dog, a recovering reactive dog named Layla who was
pretty picky about her canine companions. But Layla seemed to like
this dog, so despite some reservations (and a whole lot of emailing and blogging and general hemming and hawing that seems funny in retrospect), Sara decided to adopt Boots.
The first thing she needed to do was
find a suitable name. The dog (well, puppy, really- he was probably
around 6 months old at the time) she had pulled from the local city
pound had been terrified. He would pancake to the ground and pee
himself when people even looked at him. He had huge eyes and though
scared of the world, desperately wanted to be right.
She named him after the house elf in the Harry Potter books, and like his namesake, Dobby was brave in
the face of fear. Over time he blossomed. He and Sara played in
rally, and his prancy, bouncy heeling was beautiful to watch. He
loved balls, and would parade around the house or training area when
he was given one. He would curl up into a ball of fur and snuggle
pretty much any time.
And then he began having seizures.
With each subsequent seizure, his
behavior deteriorated. Sara consulted with neurologists and a board
certified veterinary behaviorist. She tried meds. Lots of them. And
then she ran out of things to try, and he kept getting worse.
And so Sara- who loved Dobby with all
her heart, who cared for him through it all, who gave him the best
life he could have hoped for- selflessly gave him one last gift. She
set him free from a body plagued with physical and emotional illness.
Tonight, I am with Sara. As we walked our dogs together earlier, it reminded me of past walks in that same park, along the same path, with the same dogs... minus one. It's so strange to know that I'll never see that eager, earnest, amazing little dog again. Our time with our dogs is so short.
Sara’s time with Dobby was even shorter. Don't waste a single moment. Go for a walk. Throw a tennis ball. Snuggle on the couch. Be with your dog.
Do it in honor of Dobby, the brave and courageous dog.
If you’d like to read Sara’s
beautiful tribute to her dog, please read it here.
It's way better than mine. There's also a follow up here.
1 comment:
Run free Dobby. My thoughts and prayers are with Sara.
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