He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me… whenever… wherever – in case I need him. And I expect I will – as I always have. He is just my dog. ~ Gene Hill ~
Today, my best friend and her family were faced with the harsh reality that many dog owners must inevitably face – the time had come to put an end to the suffering of their best friend and family member. Shylo had battled cancer for the last two years like a warrior, and lived much longer than any of us expected, but to meet him and spend any time in his presence, you would never know he was sick. From the time he was brought into the home as a puppy, Shylo was a ball of joy, love, and happiness. At his healthiest he was over 100 pounds and was what I like to call “a little dog trapped in a big dog’s body”. If you let him, he would happily crawl up onto your lap no matter where you sat. He snored when he slept with you in the bed and was most definitely a bed hog. I know this because I snuck him in to sleep with me many years ago when I stayed with Tim and Wendy (caught big heck for that one too, but it was worth it). If given the choice between a treat and cuddles, he most surely would choose the cuddles, but always knew the treat would soon follow. Shylo loved his walks in the woods, truck rides, and just being around people. Most of all, he loved his family. He was gentle, rarely barked and tolerated all the little ankle biters that would visit the house wanting to play with him, while he just wanted to relax and enjoy his surroundings.
I had the privilege of sharing Shylo’s last week while I was dog sitting for my BFF and her family, and in my heart I knew it was only a matter of time. He waited for his family to come home before he decided he just couldn’t do it any longer, and we were there when he took his last breath this afternoon. He went peacefully with those who loved him the most at his side. Many would say “it’s just a dog”, and I believe those people have never experienced the unconditional love and pure joy that a dog brings to your life. They heal and comfort just by their mere presence, and all they expect in return is to be taken care of and loved. For me, the hardest part of Shylo’s death was seeing and knowing that a small piece of my best friends also died today. For a long time, the house will not be the same, but as with anything, life will go on.
Goodbye Shylo…I love you so very much and will miss your presence every time I visit. You were with me through my sadness over this holiday season and for that I will always be grateful. Rest peacefully my friend, and know that you will be remembered with love, laughter, and thoughtfulness always.
