It startled me to learn last week that Christie Blatchford’s beloved English bull terrier, Obie, had died at a ripe old age. Seems but a few years ago she informed readers of his acquisition as a pup.
Christie says Obie was “my one,” made for her, as she was for him. It’s tough to lose a cherished companion but, given our hugely disparate life spans, dog lovers must accept serial bereavement as the price of our unique cross-species covenant. Most of us love and part with a succession of dogs over our lifetimes.
Another reality is that some dogs are more precious in memory than others. But the best should never be the enemy of the good in these matters. So I hope in time Christie will find herself able to envision a new canine chapter in her life, for her own sake and for the sake of some very lucky dog.
Last May, we too had to say goodbye to a dog. Our yellow lab Polo was not our “one,” but he was of course loved all the same. (Our “one” was a predecessor, Harley, a gorgeous black lab with a beautiful temperament.) Towards spring, it became clear that elderly Polo had gone from merely stiff and arthritic to some form of neuro-degeneration. Labs are passionate about food. On the day I poured out his kibble and he seemed conflicted as to whether eating was motivation enough to put himself through the discomfort of rising and walking to his bowl, I took it as a clear signal. The vet agreed it was time.
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