We adopted him at over seven years old from a shelter, already somewhat affected by hip dysplasia and arthritis; he had an amazing, sweet personality and aristocratic looks.  How nobody adopted him for the 18 months he was in the shelter I can't imagine, but that was our great fortune.

We had more than 5-1/2 wonderful years with him; he slowed down but the only real problem he had was with stairs; we walked every day, he inhaled his food with joy, and the special bacon and Culver's French Fry treats were like giving mana to a starving person; he radiated joy like no other dog.  And with very few exceptions (hyper, naughty kids who abused him) he made friends with _everyone_ he met.

He was diagnosed with cancer in March; it had metastacized by the time we found it, but they thought it might be treatable with low-intensity chemo (not to cure, just to stop or slow the growth and give him more quality time).  But he also came down with a digestive problem that we had to clear up before he could start chemo.  That took over a month; he was due to start chemo this Tuesday, and had been feeling, walking, doing better every day for the past week...

After a normal morning Saturday, he was sleeping and had a horrible attack, with vomiting, and then (we later found) aspirated some of the vomit. After that he had trouble breathing, and became mostly unresponsive. Though he had shown no earlier signs, the emergency vet said he had serious pneumonia, and might have suffered a mild stroke, and that subsequent attacks at the ER had the same result (aspirating vomit). The odds for his recovering to a state of comfort, or decent quality of life were vanishingly low.  The tumor on his lung had grown during the time we couldn't give him chemo and even with an oxygen feed his blood oxygenation was low...  When we left the ER on Saturday, though, he was once again responding, recognizing us, and trying so hard to get up and follow us out...

He didn't really respond to us when we went to the ER today.  But when we left to make the final arrangements he tried to follow us again... he knew it was us and he wanted to be with us.  

He died in our arms, his whole dirt-side Pack present and mourning.

He walks with his elder Packmates now, making friends with passing souls and angels.



Damn it all.  We thought we had at least weeks, months if we were lucky, of good time with him left.   Now in less than a day, he's gone.  And we're broken...

Don't take your pups for granted.  

Your dog looks beautiful.
I'm truly sorry for his passing.
Everyday I tell my kids, puppies, wife and dogs I love them. Kinda in that order.

Sorry for your loss .
It is a lonely road and to be taken day by day. Try and flood your thoughts with knowing he could not of had a better family to spend his life with and the good times had.

Sorry for your loss.
Thank you for giving him a good home and loving him

Sorry about your pal.
He looks especially happy there, you gave him a great home.


 

Dogs are here such a short time.

Sorry for your loss and condolences to you and your family.
Thank you for being one of the few to adopt an older dog.

He did the same for us, taking on a middle-aged couple who were still hurting from his elder packmates' passing.

Its still not real.  He's not underfoot in the kitchen, he didn't come snuffling around the stove to clean up any spatter like he did Saturday morning.  He's not in the hallway waiting for us when we're out or upstairs.  He's not lying right in front of me when I'm watching TV so I can't sneak away without his noticing.  Not making limpid cow eyes at us when he needs to go out _now_...  the world has turned upside down.

And older dogs are awesome.  When the time comes to grow our Pack again we'll definitely look for an adult.  We had actually been investigating adopting a retired military dog back in 2008 when we found Swiper.

I'm very sorry for your loss. Every time I read one of these posts, I go hug my dogs.

I'm sorry for your loss; I know how bad it hurts.  

We have guests coming so had to proceed as normal.  This is the first time in 5+ years I can go in and out the back door to the grill without stepping over, or tripping over Swiper.  Still bumping and blocking a phantom so he doesn't sneak out when the screen door is open...

Sorry man....

What a beautiful, fine dog! Thank you for giving an older guy so many more good years. You'll see him again...

The way you speak of remembering him reminds me of:

The House Dog's Grave

I've changed my ways a little, I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot your bed; no, all the nights through
I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read -- and I fear often grieving for me --
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that you when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dears, that's too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided . . . .
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

Robinson Jeffers, 1941

Sorry OP.

  This.

That.

Sorry for your loss.

RIP Swiper, you did good.

Thanks all.  It feels like the world should stop and take notice when something like this happens... but it never does.  "Just a dog, get back to work..."

It helps to have some commiseration from people who understand.

We're picking up his ashes tomorrow.  When we finally retire and escape ill-annoy to our 'rest of our lives' home we'll lay him, his pack sisters, and even the stupid cat to rest there.

We're still doing the evening walk (the longest he was still able to do) every day.  We donated his meds and food (the vet works with local shelters), and put his bowls up (those belonged to Burpy (1979-92), then Amber (1993-2008), then Swiper (from 2009-2015), and will someday serve a new Packmate), but his beds and collar are still out... its too soon to just pack everything up.