When a Dog Dies

Today our old doggie died. Blackie was the last one of the pets that grew up with my “second family” of children, a golden retriever/black lab cross. As the final animal survivor of that era, he outlived Mia, a tiny terrier; Jake and Jana, golden cocker spaniels; Sadie, our calico cat; and Little Boy, the cat who went off to college with our youngest son. And, of course, numerous turtles, snakes and fish.

We got Blackie after our nieces came to live with us. Matt had been virtually an only child; his two older siblings are 20 and 17 years older and more like extra parents. The addition of 3 little girls into our household was quite a shock for him, but he understood how important it was that we provide a home for them. At eleven years old, he was forced to share his mother, but he drew the line at sharing his dog.

So one Sunday afternoon, we drove down to Wimberley and adopted a tiny puppy. On the way home, amidst the “oohing” and “awwing,” the girls bestowed upon him probably the least imaginative name available. That night, all the children and the dogs slept together in the living room, on a pallet in front of the fireplace.

Mia, who was a fraction of Blackie’s adult size, took immediately to her new role of surrogate mother, and helped me train him. To this day, he still peed in a little girl squat, just as Mia showed him. All her life, Blackie followed Mia around faithfully. When she died, he was lost, but he quickly shifted his devotion to me. Wherever I stood, there he was. In fact, it was Blackie that I tripped over when I tore up my knee two years ago.

As is true of all dogs who are cherished and given the opportunity, Blackie loved us unconditionally. When one of us was sad, he was there resting his head upon a knee. When we moved to the front door, he was there with his head cocked, eager to be a partner on our walk. We will miss him so much. Still, our kids are all grown up now, and though we have been crying a lot today, we will enjoy the increased freedom.

Perhaps my strongest feeling now is one of gratitude, for Blackie’s life and for my husband and children. Matt and Brittany each drove from their jobs to be with us at the vet, to tell Blackie they loved him, and be with him as he passed. Dempsey, who is the most emotional of all of us, sobbed as he carried Blackie into the vet in his arms, and carried him out again wrapped in a sheet. The kids hugged us and each other, and when we called New York to tell the other girls, there were more tears. I see the values that we hold so dear expressed in the lives of our children, and I know the experience of loving and caring for Blackie, and our other animals, did much to build those values.

Goodbye, sweet Blackie.