RIP old Gus

[chipperb]

Jimmy Stewart's dog poem brought tears to both my wife and I

It is a shame that dogs do not live longer, like Parrots! Even our long-lived pups don't live that long compared their owners. So we must have to decide to get another pup, or to forgo "adopting" another to prevent further heartbreak. I have had many dogs over my lifetime, and it is always devastating when I loose them. But I alway choose to have another (or two!) Just seems like the joy of a new canine is worth the hurt later.

We now have Blitz: a male longhaired rescue doxie. Blitz and Trix, what a duo! c

[tin-man]

While there is absolutely nothing we can say to heal the emptiness you are feeling now, there are several guys on this forum who have walked in your shoes, including myself, I too lost my best friend Napoleon after 16 years and I was inconsolable for over two days.

The only solace we can collectively share is that our buddies are walking in the presence of God and are in a better place and will never, ever, feel pain or endure suffering again.

They will always stay in our hearts until the day we join them once again.. tin-man: CRY:

[chipperb]

Originally Posted by tin-man

While there is absolutely nothing we can say to heal the emptiness you are feeling now, there are several guys on this forum who have walked in your shoes, including myself, I too lost my best friend Napoleon after 16 years and I was inconsolable for over two days.

The only solace we can collectively share is that our buddies are walking in the presence of God and are in a better place and will never, ever, feel pain or endure suffering again.

They will always stay in our hearts until the day we join them once again.. tin-man: CRY:

Tin Man-so very well put. It hit my wife harder after she got me settled in. She then ran across a vet (doggy doctor!) in a social situation and he said the same thing: just think of your pup in heaven playing with your other loved pets, sharing stories-I was the thing to get my wife out of her grief.

Rea men don't cry: B S!!!!!!!

It is part of the body's natural hearing process, after we get over the denial. c

[Tony Radford]

Gus

By Tony Radford

Way back when, at the age of ten, my daughter came to me
and I asked, “What’s up?” “Dad, I want a pup, can we have one pretty please?”

Well, I gave in fast to what she asked so we made an action plan,
we would find for sale, a minpin male that was painted black and tan.

That tiny breed was what we’d need since he’d be inside all day
where he’d guard our house like a mighty mouse and frighten thieves away.

When our search was done there was only one we could find for miles around,
so I made my way to west GA just to see the one we’d found.

In a neighborhood that was less than good sat a house and out in back
was a patch of clay where the pups could play near a little wooden shack.

I approached the pen that the brood was in and out the toddlers ran,
except the one for which I’d come - the one that was black and tan.

All the rest, I could see were dressed in coats of reddish-brown
and I felt distraught ‘cause the one I sought was nowhere to be found.

That little house with its sides all doused in Georgia mud and pee
just might provide a place to hide, that was where he had to be.

On my knees, I had to squeeze through a door that was very small,
and way in back of that tiny shack sat a furry little ball.

He was short in height and the lack of light made him really hard to see,
but I felt around when I heard a sound and I pulled him close to me.

His tail was cropped and one ear flopped, his demeanor – brave and spry,
with a pedigree that all could see, he was such a handsome guy.

Our new minpin really fit right in, like another child he’d be,
he was really set, more than just a pet, he was part of our family.

Though we tried to train, it was all in vain – a defiant little man,
he was very bold and you couldn’t scold or he’d try to bite your hand.

He knew his name but he never came, his attention rarely won,
every time I’d call or throw a ball, he’d simply turn and run.

Guaranteed, he’d always heed the sound of our daughter’s voice,
the two did click - if he had to pick, she would always be his choice.

But all too fast, the years went past and our daughter moved away,
with school complete and some goals to meet, she would leave us all one day.

An empty nest, we’d make the best of the changes that would come,
though good old Gus would soon adjust, it was difficult for some.

A stronger bond between him and mom would see each other through,
at a later date he’d reciprocate when her skies would turn from blue.

That little Gus was a part of us that our family held so dear,
and we watched him age as he passed each stage of a little dog’s career.

He began to balk when we took a walk, he would limp and sometimes fall,
then severe back pain would make him lame until he couldn’t walk at all.

We took the stance that our only chance was to visit UGA,
as the clinic there was beyond compare, they should have the final say.

I recall the fear when the doc appeared – unsure of what he’d do.
I was scared to ask if he’d take the task since our dog was hardly new.

He checked him out to dispel all doubt then he took our Gus away,
they’d congregate to decide his fate - we could only sit and pray.

When he came back in he was wearing a grin, so we gently knocked on wood,
and the doc would state, “We’ll operate, his chances – very good!”

In about a week he was on his feet, the procedure brought success,
to see him stand and to walk again, so amazed - I must confess.

Would come the day when his fur turned gray at the age of seventeen,
it wasn’t clear if he could see or hear and the house was his latrine.

He’d drag the claws on his tiny paws as he walked across the floor,
his awkward stance - like a drunkard’s dance when his back was getting sore.

His needs we’d tend to the very end, all the pills and loving care,
‘cause don’t forget, he was not a pet, but our child – with darker hair.

He’d come alive when we took a drive, with his nose out in the wind,
but his love to ride and to be outside would bring things to an end.

We took a trip for some fellowship to my little sister’s place,
the door ajar – but he’d not get far with a fence around the space.

A real nice day and a pleasant stay but the time had come to go,
that interstate just couldn’t wait, soon the traffic home would slow.

But where was Gus? In all the fuss we had simply dropped our guard,
so we rushed outside in hopes we’d find him somewhere in the yard.

But a tragedy was about to be with an end no one could fix,
from the common rule that a swimming pool and old dog just don’t mix.

When we got outside, we were horrified at the sight we’d all behold,
through the water clear, our greatest fear, on the bottom – still and cold.

In a frantic scene, my sister screamed and jumped into the pool,
but a bit too late, so sealed – his fate, how life could be so cruel.

All but me could likely see that his time had come and gone,
his fur was filled with the water’s chill but my hope was hanging on.

It took a while for me to reconcile as he lay there soaking wet,
and my mind flashed back to that little shack where me and Gus first met.

That tiny pup that I picked up way back in ’94
had come to be such a part of me but would be a part no more.

I felt so sad that the time we had had come to such an end,
just me alone on the ride back home, in my lap – no little friend.

I still feel pain when I hear his name and my heart just wants to bust,
he’ll always be in my memory – that special dog named Gus.

[twobjshelbys]

Thanks for that. I think we all miss Gus now.

I always have to give credit to good writing. Well done.

If you don't mind I'm going to send it to some friends.

[Tony Radford]

Tony, feel free.

[twobjshelbys]

I think every dog and car owner should read The Art of Racing in the Rain. Have a box of Kleenex nearby.

[Tony Radford]

Tony, thanks for the comments. I read the first few pages of the book on Amazon. Looks like a worthwhile read. I'll snag a copy.

T

[charles roybal]

17 yrs of unconditional love...what a gift he gave you. Last year after work my golden retriever (Byron) of 18yrs passed away next to the dinner room chair I set in. Hurt like H__LL!!!!!!!!!!! In fact I still get tears in my eyes when I think about him. What has helped tremendously was getting an other golden retriever (Simon) unconditional love fills the house again.