Another good-bye

We ran out of time for one of our dear dogs this past week. After over a year of struggling to keep Mickey's health problems under control and still give him a good quality of life, we had to concede the battle. His medications were failing on a regular basis, his dignity, comfort and sense of pride were under assault by his illness, and the equilibrium between good and bad days was tipping in the wrong direction. His refusal to eat in his last couple of days was the final message we needed to make the decision to let him go. Many times over the past year, when we were experiencing a downturn in his condition, one or the other of us would cautiously and carefully mention that maybe his time was coming. The other person (we traded back and forth on this) would say "no, not yet", and indeed he would rally and we'd see him return to a reasonable quality of life. Last Wednesday was the first time that we both agreed the end was at hand. 

As it happened, we already had a vet appointment for the next morning, as Oscar needed some blood work done. Since it was a viciously cold morning when no-one would voluntarily go out, we thought our chances of getting Mickey into the clinic at the same time were good. That turned out to be the case, so we all set off for Mickey's final journey. He went very quietly in lovely surroundings at Forest Grove vet clinic. They have a comforting room with big windows, many plants, comfortable chairs, and a rug in front of a fireplace for the departing friend. On thinking about it after the fact, I'd be happy to lie down in front of that fireplace and go peacefully myself when my time comes. Jim, Oscar and I were all with him, and for what it was, it was the best it could possibly be. Go in peace, old friend. 

Shot one shows Mickey and brother Oscar as tiny puppies, photo courtesy of their breeder. Oscar is on the far right, Mickey is resting his head on Oscar. Their life story saw them separated as puppies, to different owners in different provinces, then as their intertwined fates evolved, Mickey ended up with our family as a young adult, having had two previous owners before he came to us. Brothers reunited. 

Shot two shows the boys as six year old adults. That's Mickey on the left. His first owner campaigned him as a show dog, hence the cropped ears. I have always stayed with natural ears for the Boxers I have raised, and even the show world is slowly evolving to accepting non-cropped ears. It was often quite hard to get a good shot of Mickey. He was a very handsome dog, but somehow contrived to look neckless and squat in many of the shots I have taken of him over the years. 

Shot three shows Mickey more recently (earlier this year), greying out but with a lot of mature dignity, in a characteristic position catching some of the morning sun in the dining room. 

   
Shot four is one of my favourite shots of Mickey, showing his alert good looks when he was in his prime.                                

                

Shot five shows the fireplace-mantle shrine commemorating our boy. It features an art image I did a number of years back from the photo above, flowers sent by my daughter in BC, and a stylized pen and ink work by Mickey's second owner, who lives in the city and has kept in touch with him over the years.

Sad as it has been to see our boy go, we are grateful to have had him in our life. He was the one who worried about us, kept track of our comings and goings, did security patrol in the back yard, welcomed guests with great enthusiasm, and generally took on the responsibility of keeping everything in hand on the home front. Oscar, the entitled brother raised by us, was more than happy to hand over all responsibility to Mickey in order to log more time on our bed. Mickey was the "what can I do for you?" brother, whereas Oscar is all about "what can you do for me?" Doubtless I went astray somewhere with the one I raised! Oscar has changed his patterns a bit since Mickey left us, and now seems to feel the need to check on us a bit more often, but he certainly lacks Mickey's dedication to the job. I think for Mickey it was a calling and one he fulfilled well.