Well, Summer is over and Mom has failed to keep you updated on my doings. No worries. I’ll tell you all about Kindergarten.
I get to ride the bus in the morning with my friends, even though I don’t know their names. But I sit with the same girl in the second seat most days. Mom still brings me to the bus stop so she knows these things already. Then I spend the day with Srta. C in her class learning all kinds of stuff that I don’t tell Mom and Dad. Recess and lunchtime are my favorite. My friends A and A and I play and then go through the hot lunch line where I like to take extra vegetables. I have to pay extra but it doesn’t bother me. Or my Dad.
After school I either take the bus home (Yay!), do the after school program (Yay!) or go to swimming lessons (Yay!). It’s been over a week and I like it. I really really like it.
It’s Mom here. Not Nibbler. She just couldn’t bring herself to share this news with you. But Bug is gone. Most of you know that. Most of you know that after eleven and a half years we had to say good bye. Most of you probably know that Tuna is also gone. She barely made an appearance here, but back in March she got really sick, really fast and we had to let her go. Same with Bug. We think he had a broken heart along with his broken back.
And it breaks my heart to write this, even though it’s been six weeks since we last saw him. Both pups have crossed the rainbow bridge and I just know they’re chasing each other and Bug is probably jumping on Luna’s head.
Bogey arrived on February 17, 2003. He was twelve weeks old and weighed just 3.5 pounds. We picked him up at the airport where he was coming from Kansas via Texas. Of course, he missed his connection and was over an hour late. When we got him into the skyway, we pulled him out of his kennel and I placed him inside my blue north face jacket. He was terrified, but settled down quickly when he realized how cold it was outside and how warm it was in the jacket. Once at home we set him on the hard wood floor and all four legs quickly slid out, until he was on his belly. He was so little he could only but his front paws on the bottom step. We carried him, we cuddled him, we loved him, for over eleven years.
Not a day went by that I didn’t kiss his little “kiss spot”, the white spot on his head. His kindness will never be forgotten. And at night, when I lie in bed, I can still imagine that he’s curled up against me beneath the covers.
Marc held him as we said goodbye. I held his paw. Nibbler watched from the window. I think losing a second dog so quickly was hardest on her. It was peaceful. It was beautiful. It was so fast. But finally, his poor little body was calm for the first time in days. His panting subsided. His spasming back relaxed. His eyes closed. His breathing slowed. And then his heart stopped.
We wept. The vet took him away. But we kept the memories. The love he had for us. The love we had for him.