Saying Goodbye to Bosco

On Sunday we had to stay goodbye to our old and faithful friend, sweet Bosco. 

He came into our lives 15 years ago as a scrappy, filthy stray dog that my sister rescued on the side of the road. 

He was the perfect family dog: loyal, sweet, good-natured, patient, devoted, gentle.  He never, not once, showed any signs of aggression or even annoyance at our children, even when they were little toddlers.  He just followed them around and wanted to be near them wherever they went.  He ran miles with me when he was younger.  His whole life he walked miles up and down our lane with us.  

As he got older he developed issues: Cushing's disease, incontinence, deafness, arthritis, probably a touch of dementia.  We decided that as long as he was eating and seemed happy, we'd just carry on.  In the past couple of months, as he worsened,  I found myself caring for him more and more in a hands-on way: carrying him outside to use the bathroom, coddling him more, etc.  

Two weeks ago he seemed worse, so we took him to the vet.  We got antibiotics and additional pain medications, and decided our goal was to keep him comfortable.  We knew he'd outlived his life expectancy by a couple of years. So I fed him all sorts of delicious goodies: canned food, tuna, cheese, treats.  He slowly began to limit himself to only a few types of foods.  The antibiotics seemed to help him perk up.  I went back for more after a week, because he seemed to worsen.  The entire time he was on pain medications and seemed comfortable. Friday he ate like a champ (for a 16-year-old geriatric dog in his last weeks of life), but on Saturday the tide had turned.  I stayed up with him all night on Saturday, tending to all his needs and staying right at his side, and on Sunday we knew we had reached the point of no return. 

Oh, the tears.  

We buried him in a far corner of the farm with the prettiest view of the pond and the woods and the mountains.  On Monday Annie wanted to pick daffodils and place them on his grave, so we did that.  

We are slowly recovering from this loss.  When you've had a pet for 15 years, he really does become a part of the family culture and community.  The house feels so quiet now, and the amount of free time I now have is astonishing (I don't think I realized how much energy and time I was pouring into all of his needs!).  I miss him. I have never been a true "animal person" but I've always been a Bosco person.  He was just the type of dog you couldn't help but love--such a dear personality. 

Rest in peace, you gentle soul.  We love you.