To add to the challenges I've had to face this year, this week I had to put my retired dog down. Unexpected, due to an injury and infection, and something I wasn't ready for.
He was boneheaded and stubborn, more interested in play than sitting still, as happy to chew on a tree branch as a dog toy.
He loved riding in the truck, and would pout if I left for someplace without him - because he knew we were supposed to be together to do stuff.
He did the heavy lifting for the pair of us, great at doing his job and finding stuff. Because of his nose we had numerous weapons recovered from crime scenes, we kept kids and dignitaries safe at public events, and he loved every minute of it. I just had to trust him and let him work, and know when he was ready for a play break.
He never once cared about the siren when we were driving fast to a call at work - but, at the house, the slightest hint of a firetruck be heard, and he would howl until it was long out of range.
He listened to more of my rants and rambles than I could count, doing his best to get his head up by my arm, or to sneak a treat as we drove around town.
It's tough to write this. To say enough about how much I appreciated working with him. How poorly I let him know it.
I'm glad he got to spend the past few months just being a dog, playing with the kids, hanging out in the sun, running around as he wanted to. He earned it. I'm glad we got to go on one last ride together, and that I was with him at the end.
Just a few ramblings from a confused guy. Former military, former cop. Husband. Father. Student. Role playing gamer, on intermittent weeks. Avid reader. Internet addict. Small "l" libertarian. Too many others to mention. The views and opinions expressed herein are my own, and do not reflect those of any official agency or government or species. Names have been changed to protect the guilty; God protects the innocent as a matter of course.
“May have been the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one.”
"This report is maybe 12-years-old. Parliament buried it, and it stayed buried till River dug it up. This is what they feared she knew. And they were right to fear because there's a whole universe of folk who are gonna know it, too. They're gonna see it. Somebody has to speak for these people. You all got on this boat for different reasons, but you all come to the same place. So now I'm asking more of you than I have before. Maybe all. Sure as I know anything I know this, they will try again. Maybe on another world, maybe on this very ground swept clean. A year from now, 10, they'll swing back to the belief that they can make people . . . better. And I do not hold to that. So no more running. I aim to misbehave." ~ Captain Malcom Reynolds