My Best Friend Ever

I sat up startled in bed last night, hearing Ollie bark four times.  It was unmistakably his voice.  Low loud barks are meant for intruders or trespassing deer.  These were higher, sharper and spaced differently.  In doggo lingo, he needed to go out.

For the past four weeks, he and I have been getting up at 3:00 am for a backyard potty break due to the Prednesone his vet prescribed.  In spite of being in a soothing deep sleep at that hour, I would have continued to interrupt my nights for as long as my best friend needed.

Ollie is a tricolour Rough Collie.  Rough Collies are a herding breed so sweet they are known to block stairwells or roads when looking after children.  When you factor in over-thinking hyper-vigilance, with a sense of humour, gentleness, sensitivity and the four beautiful gaits of a horse, you get the best of the best the canine world has to offer.

So, it was natural and fun for me and Ollie to do everything together.  Unlike many dogs who get anxious in the car associating it with going to the vet, Ollie was in the car almost every day of his life.  We went on daily adventures. We participated in canine activities like fitness, agility, nose work, obedience, herding and Canine Good Citizen. His good behaviour was well grounded in his Collie temperament and fine-tuned in his training. More than anything, Ollie was over-the-moon scoping out a forest trail.

When I arose yesterday morning, I had no idea that within hours, I’d be losing the best friend I’ve ever had.  Four weeks earlier his radiographs had indicated a mass near his lungs, hence the steroid prescription.  But he had remained stable.  Yesterday medicated stability gave way to more obvious suffering.  His breathing was laboured, his gums were lighter, his activity level was lethargic and his breakfast was still in his bowl.

This was quickly becoming the worst day in a dog-owner’s life.

Melissa and I knew we had to say goodbye to this beautiful, loving creature, only 5 1/2 years into his unselfish abbreviated life.

My wife and I are still crying. I’m walking into rooms expecting to see him in his favourite spots.

Another dog-loving friend who lost her best friend a week earlier writes …

“Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to explode, the grief is so pronounced. I think we have a separate heart for our dogs. All they want from us is to spend time with us. Their love is so pure, so strong. When we lose them I think we lose a part of ourselves.”

I sat up startled in bed last night, hearing Ollie bark four times.  It was unmistakably his voice.  Now I know it was a dream.  What I wouldn’t give for just a few moments more of those beautiful brown eyes looking deep into my soul.

Blessings on your home,
robert