My beautiful red-headed boy is gone and there is a hole in our lives. Yesterday was very hard. The vet said an operation was necessary. His bloat was either fluid or a mass. X-rays showed his little heart was very enlarged but the blood tests were pretty normal. He didn't survive the anaesthetic. Buster made it home and had a few days in the old haunts where he was born and grew up. He had a nice liver breakfast yesterday. He was a great little dog-my bed snuggler, my worry-wart, always sweet and ready for a rub or a brush. He was the one who was at my feet. He is alive in every memory around this place.
I was almost home when I thought about Honey. She had waited patiently in the van while all this transpired. I turned around and we went back for a "viewing." She sniffed him thoroughly. She seemed to understand and when we got home she went for a liedown. I did too. We were both crying in our sleep. She has been sticking pretty close to me. She has been kind of demanding about playtime-her companion is gone. Buster's life was pretty good to the end-just smaller and smaller-more sleep, less play.
As someone at the park pointed out, the major cause of death is birth. We know at the get-go that we will likely survive our dogs. They enrich our lives so much they are worth the heartbreak when they go. But the heartbreak is real. My eyes are still leaking a little. But Buster has a piece of my heart forever and soon there will be a second box of ashes to go traveling with Goodie and me and Honey until....
