For an old dog, death is always on the horizon. But her sudden departure yesterday morning was as big a surprise as that wet puppy we found shivering in the rain 14 years ago.
This morning, I stared misty-eyed at my reflection in the now empty, stainless water dish, and our first meeting came flooding back.
Raleigh spotted her first. Maybe that’s why she always felt more like his dog than anyone else’s.
We’d scarcely pulled out of the driveway when he saw her through the drizzle, standing in the middle of the road. He jumped out of the car, coaxed her out of the street, and led her into our garage.
Raleigh shouted into the house announcing: “We found a lost dog. We’re gonna take pictures, make signs, and put them around the neighborhood!”
My wife raised an eyebrow and laid down the law: “We’ve already got a dog. We’re not keeping her.”
The pup’s sad, brown eyes joined Robyn’s and both sets locked with those of my own brown-eyed girl as they questioned Nancy’s resolve. But she stood firm. “If nobody calls,” she instructed me, “you’re taking her to the shelter.”
After five days and zero response from our “Lost Dog” signs, however, I came home to find Nancy sitting on the front steps with the beagle-mix mutt in her lap. Now they both looked at me with puppy-dog eyes, and my wife vocalized their expressions:
“Maybe we should keep her?”
And so our family grew.
My self-amusing tradition of naming pets after college roommates continued, and this anonymous newcomer became “Brooks.”
She was neurotic, skittish, and very wary whenever visitors came over, barking at anyone who didn’t live in “her” house. Brooks loved her adopted family fiercely, and if she liked you, you had a friend for life.
If she didn’t? Well, you could try all you wanted, but it just wasn’t going to happen.
Her selectiveness in friendships made it extremely difficult to find a dog sitter when we were out of town. Raleigh’s best friend, Reid, couldn’t even coax her downstairs with Cheez-Its on every stair. But our friend, Alice, and Brooks were a match made in heaven—even in spite of Alice’s need for Benadryl after each visit.
In younger days, Brooks may have been the fastest dog on earth, racing down the deck stairs and circling the entire house at light speed before I could even finish closing the sliding glass door behind me.
But lately, she’d been showing her age, and most mornings on our walks together it felt like she did more sniffing than walking.
In Genesis 2, God creates Adam and then parades all of the animals by to see if one of them can be his best friend. And although the story says that “no suitable companion was found,” I think one of them was pretty doggone close.
After all, mine rushed to greet me every afternoon, wagged her tail, and licked away all the cares that each day had etched upon my face. Brooks loved us wholeheartedly.
Maybe that’s why the hole in my heart is so big today.
Now, instead of nails clicking on the hardwood floors, it’s just quietness that echos around our house.
She was a good girl, and we’ll miss her.
But because our girl was so good to us, we’re gonna be okay.
stevecothran 