Metamorphisis. Saying good bye to a loved one :-(

Same from me
(repeating toms words because i can never say the right things in these situations - but this is how i feel)

Jake:
You're killing me here. What a sad story. I am sorry for your loss. I have been there many times, and have always buried my own dogs. I have also buried about four of my own cats as well. It is a terrible feeling, but you must remember, nothing ever lasts forever. Whenever you bring love into your life (be it animal or human) you always hope for a long life. But it is enevitable (sp) that (for an animal anyway) the time is to short. Therefore, live everyday as if it was your last with the ones (animal or human) you love.

Michael

Yesterday was different. When we met, we didn’t go about the usual messing around. Well, to be sure, I wasn’t up to it. I felt sad. Not the sadness that shows in your eyes, mind you. It was like carrying too much weight. Just like not having the energy to run, play and do the usual stuff we do when we meet.

So we just sat and talked. We sometimes do that. But yesterday it was different. I told them about Rumpus. I told them about her death. I also told them the feelings her master had described. So we just sat there, under the old oak tree, where we usually seat when it is too hot for running around. It is actually very cold now but, somehow, we just didn’t feel like running and playing.

Tom was there and a lot of the others. But it is usually Tom who plays leader. He has that reassurance that make others wait until he gives a sign of what’s to be done. Sometimes, Nap will challenge him. But today he came in late.

So we just sat and talked about Rumpus. About her life and passing away as we knew it.

Shabby muttered about how much he longed the days when he went for a daily walk. His master didn’t do that any more. He seemed to be always too worn out when back from work. Or maybe he wasn’t proud of him any more. Shabby is old, you know. His gait is not what it used to be. When we run around, we usually have to wait for him to catch up. He limps also. That car! So many times we had told him not to get so near the front tires.

Grungy growled something about how good it must feel to have a proud master. Well, after all, he was picked up in the street by the boys in the big house right around the corner.

Precious said she knew her master was proud of her. Very proud indeed. People usually had things to say about her when they went to the mall. And she could see her smile and feel her arm gently hugging her while she said thanks. But, somehow, said Precious, she felt the proudness was in her posession of Precious not on Precious herself.

Ricky complained about how our masters will usually show us off like grown-ups’ toys. Like when they own a flashy car, a big house or a fast chrome-filled bike.

So I told them about Rumpus. I told them about her master’s friends. About how it was evident that they were sad not only for her master’s loss but also for Rumpus’ passing away. About how all these grown-ups spoke openly about their sadness and their tears. How they recalled their own pain when their own companions had died. And I told them how it made me feel like maybe I was loved after all. Not for the proudness my master felt when he saw the admiring looks. Just loved for my own sake.

We made a pledge there and then: we would memorize what was being said about Rumpus so the first to die and meet her wherever she went would tell her about the loss her death had provoked.

I am not quite sure about afterlife. Maybe it is only for humans. So I don’t think I really believe in it. But Tom does. And Tom knows things. He has told us about how his master will read aloud to him from old and worn thick books. There is something to Tom that makes you uneasy; you know he knows things.

So we also promised that whenever one of us died, the rest would hear what was said of him. And the first to follow would tell him about how he was missed.

Maybe my master could tell me now. We live a dangerous life, you know. I have heard about some guys who have even been poisoned. Or shot at. And then, there’s the car-chasing. It is dangerous. You can get killed any day.

Maybe my master should tell me right now.

Remarkable post, Julio.

Sorry for your loss. My condolences.

Julio, I am blown away.
Thanks for that post.

Thanks to all of you for your kindness in posting here.

For the first few days, I was really overwhelmed with how many times I had to tell the tale, to explain her decline and in my own mind almost have to justify to Bumpus' friends why she was no longer here, and the role I had taken in that fate. (writing here was different, very different. Bursting into tears behind the safety of a keyboard is therapy, where as doing so in work etc.. is just hard )

But now, despite the sadness, I am truly finding not only a relief, but even an odd sense of joy (maybe the wrong word) in having to tell so many people. It is such a testament to her, and her spirit (the kindest Dog in the world someone told me) that so many are interested, so many have to know. I love that her legacy is so strong, I love that so many care. She deserves this attention. Always did.


Skip, Roo is holding on.
She eats, and sleeps as she did before, so I do not feel that the impact of her sisters absence will cause the sort of decline that sometimes occurs to older dogs in her situation. She is a remarkably healthy 14 year old, unlike her sister.

The symptom we do see, which is quite touching and very sad, is taking her for walks.
I have started to use a leash with her again for the first time in over ten years. She will not follow me at times, as she looks around for Bumpus, convinced that I am leaving her behind. (all these walks, the same places for 14 years with her sister, she can't imagine she is not there)
It seems also she that she has relied on Bumpus as the l;eader for the two for so long, that she simply seems to get confused as to what to do. The leash, never a burden to her, seems to comfort her, and gives her a sense of direction she does not have on her own.

It's hard to explain how much Roo was the "baby sister" to anyone who has not met them. I give you this as one microcosm of there life as explanation.

for 14 years, every day at least once a day Bumpus would take the time to clean Roo's face, lick behind her ears, clean her eyes, .. mother her. It was something that we loved to watch, as the care was so obvious.

In that 14 years, Roo, the baby sister, never once did the same for Bumpus. It never occurred to her.

Now Roo is suddenly not sharing the world next to the Alpha of Bumpus,.
I think this could be a good thing. Maybe she'll grow up a bit, and be an Alpha too?

Thanks Skip and CDS. This forum has been a great living experience for me. Never met a fine bunch of people like you find here.

CDS, your OP really moved me as I am sure all the rest of us.

Amazing bunch of stories here. I hav enjoyed this thread, perhaps, more than any.

I coped with a great loss on the 4th of July 2002. I lost my sheltie collie, Cisco. I was 4 wheeling with my dad in the mountains and came home and he was cuddled up in the corner "sleeping". I thought it was weird... didnt ever hear his bark when I got out of the truck. I just got the bucket of dog food, and proceeded to feed the 2 black labs we had at the time, and Cisco too... Just my usual rounds. It was heartbreaking to see him that way. I pulled him out gently and my dad and I went back to the mountains where we just returned from to bury him. He belonged there. We spent so much time in the mountains.

And even more recently, we had to put down both labs within about 7 months of each other. They were definitely bird dogs. Jake, a black lab / cheasapeke bay (sp?), was born a bird dog. He had the big head, big brown eyes, thin body, and bloody paws after what he considered a great day pheasant hunting... catching the birds live... Yeah, amazing hunter. Jake bit me when I was 5 years old... bent down to hug him and he didnt like it. But after that we had our bond and he was very protective of me.

As far as Blue goes (the other black lab), my dad and I were in Afton, WY visiting my grandparents one year. And Blue would cross a busy highway every day, itd be -30 degrees or 100 degrees outside, and then she would cross the Snake River and climb the hill up to my grandparents' house to be fed since her owners didnt believe in taking care of them. The days we were there it was very cold and by the time she reached the house all she shook off was ice crystals. So we brought her home. She was nothing but skin and bones. We fattened her up really nice... hehe she was pretty chunky when we let her go. Arthritis set in hard and we couldnt see her suffering anymore. She was quite the houdini tho too... She knew all the ways to get out of her kennel my dad and I made her. She would jump on top of her dog house then leap over the 6ft chain link fence like it was nothing, and then lift the handle on the kennel and let herself and Cisco out to roam the back yard lol. That was definitely in her younger days. We prevented the houdini after a bit more work.... put a roof over the kennel and made a wire thing to put in the handle so it couldnt be raised without removing it... oh the memories!!

So thats the story of the three dogs that have had the biggest impact on my life so far. My folks have a Chinese Pug who is 6 now, and when its his time to go, I will probably be posting again... Hopefully not for a few more years. That dog helped me through a lot before I moved out.

These dogs have not come close to doing what yours have CDS but I had to share my stories too.... My memories of each dog. I have hard copy pics of these guys... no pics on the comp so someday I may scan and post. But I hold each one near and dear to my heart. I know the feeling.

CDS,

I'm very sorry for your loss... while the words below aren't mine, I hope they offer you and your family some comfort...

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Amen

How touching. Pretty amazing how they touch and merge into our lives. It takes someone special not to be selfish and make that trip to the vet. But of course Bumpus knew that. Farewell Bumpus, your spirit lives on...

My ol' boy is sad for your ol' girl.

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CDS,
No words of wisdom can make up for your loss, I just want to wish Bumpus a peacefull rest, and I hope Roo is okay.

A dog lover,
Chris.

I've got another Bumpus & Roo story if you'll indulge me.

Last May some of my family got together to set a gravestone for my Grandmother in a close friends family plot in Cape Cod Massachusetts. (longish background, but the three other stones in the plot were carved by My Father, who's trade was Stone carving before retiring The dear Heiberg Family whom were My Grandmothers neighbors for decades offered the last plot to us for a headstone for Helen. )

We rented two small cottages near a beach, and all converged there,
Myself, Bumpus and Roo shared a cottage with My Sister's family including husband, two nephews, and there pet Rabbit "Theo"

The other Cottage included my Father and Step Mother and there amiable, loveable, hairy, but hyper spastic mutt "Hank" (named after my long departed Grandfather no less)

Now two things we need to know here.
1. Bumpus and Roo have never met Hank (Dad lives in Newfoudnland)
2. None of the dogs have met "Theo" the bunny.

First things first, Bumpus and Roo are introduced to Theo.
As expected, they get along fine. Roo is far more interested,. and watches close and keeps looking at me as if to ask "Can I GET The Squirrel? Please? " Bumpus sniffs poor Theo who is cowering (imagine being one of a species that is destined to be food all your life? ) and immediately excepts Theo as part of the crowd.
They would do him no harm even if they encountered him in the wild. Really, I;ve seen it. In there youth, the two of them used some pretty sophisticated pack style hunting that would confuse some of the critters they pursued enough that they actually have caught both squirrels and Pidgins.
When they catch them, they lick them

Oh and as far as the birding goes, Bumpus and Roo used to accompany me on every one of my shooting expeditions, they do NOT chase ANY kinds of bird other than Pidgions in the City. Mallards, geese etc.. they leave alone.

But back to Cape Cod,

So Bumpus and Roo are on speaking terms with the bunny,..
Next after the long drive we take a walk on the beach.
Bumpus and Roo seem to get along just dandy with "Hank".. although at 14 years old, they can't even begin to keep up, fortunately Hank does not press the issue too hard.
With all of use present, they manage the 1.5 hour walk on the beach without incident.
So the dogs get along fine on there own introduction.

Later that day is when it happens,.

My Step Mother decides it's time to see how Hank and Theo will get along..
Hank is only somewhat secured on a leash as he is not very responsive to the minimal leash training efforts my Parents have attempted.

His response to Theo is dramatically different from that of my live and let live retrievers,. Hank sees FOOD and snaps the leash Taught in trying to get at the bunny, risking pulling my Step Mother over.

At this point, exceedingly tired and sore from the longest walk these 14 year olds have had in many many months, Bumpus and Roo jump up from their naps and with hackles high and teeth bared, insert themselves between the hyper active but youthfully powerful Hank and the defenseless Theo.
Barking the two of them repel him long enough for me to also grab the now slipping leash and drag him into his own cabin.

In that one introduction, in the mere hours since meeting "theo" Bumpus (who always takes the lead in these affairs) was totally aware that Theo was "Family" and now Hank, whom she had more recently spent playful hours walking with, was reduced to nothing more than a nuisance and a threat in her mind.

Indeed, for the rest of the three days we spent there, Bumpus would not allow Hank to come within 30 feet or so of "our" Cabin.

What a great story, Jake! Bumpus reminds me so much of my old black lab, Tar. She loved everyone in the neighborhood, but if she ever saw anyone raise a hand to strike anyone else, she would get between them and face off whoever had the raised hand. It sure made neighborhood games of tag interesting! We lost our Tar when I was 12 years old (a LONG time ago!) and I still think of her often. Dogs leave little doggie prints on our hearts that never go away. I hope Bumpus and Tar are having the time of their lives in doggie heaven.

How's Roo doing?