Today we had to put our Sheltie to sleep. At age 13, Murdock's liver finally gave out and he spent the last week on the floor sleeping or on the front porch watching his enemies, the squirrels. Last night my wife slept on the floor next to him because he would bark during the night being in pain, not wanting to be alone and being scared.
Murdock was a sturdy beggar. When I picked him from the litter, it was because he was the one who ran out to bite my toes. Shelties are the sweetest breed of dog and one of the smartest. Easy to train and uncannily good at learning English and teaching dog, they are good company, good friends and the soul of what it is to be a family guardian.
Lots of tears at my house today. Two inconsolable teen agers, a Mom who needs to sleep but can't, and a Dad who needs to start looking for another Sheepdog. Murdock was my third Sheltie, the second Murdock and the last, and the best of them. He has been my company during this long period of unemployment and I'm pretty sure that next week while the kids are at school and the wife goes back to work, I'll be in front of this keyboard crying too and missing my best friend.
1 comment:
Reading this made me cry a little too; my mum's a Sheltie breeder, so I've grown up with them, and this all reminded me of my first mate, Baltus the most gorgous tricolor around, who died at 12. It was as if he was going to be there forever, and then one day he withered, and died a few weeks later. I still miss him. Lots.
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