Today was our Teddy’s last day.
He was a good boy.
He had lived with us for twelve and a half years.
Teddy came to us from a regional rescue group, a three year old from the country.
He was a rebound dog, as our previous Aussie, Tucker, had died earlier that year.
My wife had been trolling pet rescue sites and forwarded me a link to the picture of a wild looking critter.
I was skeptical, but she insisted that we drive 100 miles to see him.
The wild eyed pup from the picture turned out to be a calm, handsome boy.
We were warned that he was a fence jumper, but didn’t take it too seriously.
He had been part of a group of dogs turned in by someone after loosing their property.
A bit wild, it took him a while to fit into our suburban lifestyle.
He would get out at night and go chase deer around and then get back into the yard, wet and muddy.
A four foot addition to our chain link fence fixed that. The call of the wild was very strong.
He was very aloof for the first, did not care for me at all. If I came into a room alone with him he would leave.
It took years to build up trust.
Lots of time spent in dog parks. They also were in day care a lot.
We adopted another rescue pup from the same org a week after him.
A different sort of dog all together, they tolerated each other. Teddy grew into a happy part of the family, still a bit aloof, a bit mischievous.
He got away a couple of times and scared the stuffing out of us.
Trashed the house a couple of times, he had help.
Long walks, miles and miles.
Years go by and the walks grow shorter, the wild boy becomes the milder boy.
The covid years meant that they had us most days, less day care.
A little over a year ago he started having trouble with his back end.
He would have accidents, but infrequently.
It worsened over time, and he has been wearing a ‘male wrap’ for a year.
The house became smaller to him as stairs were too difficult.
The main level ( their level, as the other dog also has trouble with stairs due to blindness ) has become carpeted with a patchwork of rubber backed runners and ‘entrance way’ carpets. The hardwood floors are too slippery.
The carpeted areas have cushions and pads to lie on, with ‘pee pads’ under to catch leaks.
Quite the nightmare. Constant changing of wraps, at least one wash load a day of resting pads, fleece covers, and towels.
A small cocktail of pain meds, dispensed throughout the day.
But he has an indomitable spirit.
He could get up and get around in the back yard, change cushions, and the best thing, go for walks.
He would request access to the front yard frequently, it resulted in a wrap removal for the duration. Freedom of sorts.
His time spent outside over the last week or so began to lengthen, and his ability to get much more than a block away on a walk diminished.
Last night, after he came inside, he was complaining. I stayed up with him, and then my wife spent most of the night at his side.
This morning he could not rise, his front legs had stopped working for him.
At his request, we helped him outside where he lay in the sun for most of the afternoon.
Food was of little interest, liver chunks were the only accepted thing.
We contacted our vet who was kind enough to schedule an at home departure when other avenues were unavailable.
Did we wait too long? We knew it was time.
It is so hard to let go. Our previous dog died at our feet. It was awful. We waited too long.
I’m not a believer in an afterlife. But of all the stories, the one I want to believe is the Rainbow Bridge.