"Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep"

I met him just a little over 11yrs. ago. I didn’t know what circumstances would ensue this union that was about to commence as I meandered down this gravel charred road that lead to his house. I remember it being a warm day in August as they usually are in St Louis and I cautioned myself that all meetings don’t fair well that are blanketed with the heat. I was optimistic however and it was difficult to contain the excitement I was beginning to feel.

I parked the car and strolled to the back yard where I was greeted by his “play” mom who said to go inside the yard and she would bring the group out. As I walked through the gate, plopped myself down on the ground, I was literally overrun by the pouncing and prancing, barking and yapping of a dialogue I knew far to well. Like a lion who circles her prey waiting for the first chance to strike, they closed in to inspect this “stranger”. With a cautious and rather demure pace several were perplexed at this thing that dared to enter their domain. He was the only one that was beyond reproach and eagerly trotted to me and promptly made his home in my lap. I knew in an instant we were meant for each other.

I got to bring him home but not without a little drama for another young boy with some emotional difficulties was being considered as a potential master. He certainly had the personality to charm and settle one as his was one of a gentle nature, a manner quite fitting for such an individual. However, it was not to be and I was able to bring him home on Aug. 28, 1999. He promptly settled in causing some havoc with the “Queen of the House” needling and disrupting her routine. He found my other four legged friends enticing and had to attempt to dislodge them from their lairs as well.

He grew as most young boys his age do….gangly, their legs far exceeding their bodies for that “ugly” growth period but after several months, he “grew” into his body and proved to be a striking and strapping well proportioned young boy.

As most boys of his age, his energy level was an exuberant bundle of warp speed. It was time to get him involved in a sport that would channel and yet allow that energy to abound. Come the wonderful sports of Flyball and Agility. His ability and speed at Flyball was something to behold. He had found a way to let loose with that excitement. His expertise in Agility would have excelled only to be limited by my senility in being able to remember which way to run on the course. “Is he supposed to go up the Dog Walk, or through the Tunnel”? If they only would have had a GPS device, I could have programmed it and he certainly would have followed it home.

I was often jealous of him with his flowing auburn hair and split eye colors of blue and amber. He was a “charmer” with any woman I would bring home, often shadowing them more than me and promptly would warm their hearts. He would follow them around like the proverbial “puppy dog” and ignore me. I had to remind him of who fed him and paid the bills. He would often give me that longing look and lick on my face as his attempt at redemption. How could I resist?

We traveled extensively with his canine buds to Colorado, Michigan, Wyoming, Idaho, Utah, Montana, Canada and Maine, and Wisconsin. He relished in these travels not seemingly caring where we headed as long as he was with “dad”.

As it doesn’t seem fair for humans to be beset by frailty or disease, to have our pets endure such a travesty is a cruelty beyond proportion. And so it was with him that fateful day in July of 2009 when our worst fears were confirmed-cancer. Like I was stabbed in the heart to hear the prognosis of 2-3 months remaining of this beautiful boy was despicable. But then a ray of hope appeared and we traveled again. This time to what we hoped would stop this dreaded disease and cheat this insidious prognosis. And so it was with the advent of such progressive technology we attempted to stop his disease.

But with the intervention, his disease proved a formidable opponent and did not give in easily. It came back and we again traveled to make another effort at stopping its’ progress. But like many modern scientific interventions, it can only take one so far, then comes God. I continued to cling to hope, that hope is a good thing and no good thing ever dies. I asked for a miracle and continued to be given one day at a time. I wished to have more. As it is with any gift from God, they are on loan to us for only a brief time and they must be returned.

Dancer Bello was called back home this morning, 11 yrs, 8 mos. I won’t be saddened to the way he died, but will relish in how he lived. There will be one less dog to feed, less poop to pick up, and my vet bills will reduce. It will be such a tragic trade off. When I leave in the morning he won’t be there, sitting on the back of the couch watching me leave, nor will he be standing at the door waiting for me with his stuffed toy in his mouth. I cannot imagine my days to come.

"Don't stand by my grave and weep for I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain. Do not stand by my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die."

This is an old Native American proverb that I will adhere to with his passing. My sadness now is overwhelming. The death of a pet has always been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure in my life. As I’ve aged, it only gets more difficult. I am so thankful for having been a part of his life. He has certainly enriched mine. I can only hope when my time comes and I’m passing by a certain set of Gates, that he’s standing there and will vouch for me.

“The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master”.