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I couldn't share this while it was happening, and I still cry some but this is what I wrote the Wednesday before my beloved dog Lobo died. He was and still is the King of Dogs in my Heart. We all still miss him terribly. He was one quite special dog.

My tears slowly roll down my cheeks, and I don’t try to stop them or wipe them away. Why because I can. My dog is dying, and I chose not to euthanize him because he has been my friend and companion for 10 years, and I felt it would be an act of betrayal. He would know what I was about to let happen, and turn his head away as when he strongly disapproved. I did not want to remove him from our home, and I do not want to kill him. This is not in my imagination, for every time I say things he disagrees with he has always turned his head away. He is the most intelligent dog I have ever known. He has a strong heart and an even stronger mind, a direct gaze, and a deep caring soul. He is dying because he is old, and because he can no longer be leader of the pack. He chose to walk up to the top of our property to die, but I wouldn’t let that happen. I walked up there and brought him down, and he came because he knew it was my wish and he loves me. I made him Chicken Soup, and gave him the breast meat of the chicken and plenty of food with broth, but he ate the meat and drank the broth to please me, and then even stopped doing that. I made pork roast, and gave him the shoulder bone with plenty of meat on it, and he ate that the first time, but the second roast he just turned his head away. He no longer eats, just drinks water, and now I have to lift his head to help him with that. It would have been easier to just have betrayed his trust and had the vet put him down. However, his eyes are still smart and clear though his frame is emaciated, and there is no sorrow or pity in his eyes only respect and love. I am learning a great deal about death from his dying. Death is not a swift act, done and your loved one is gone. No death is a thief in small increments chipping away at your façade until all that is left is your core, the essence of you. Death is not always blood and gore, nor a swift executioner for the foolhardy, but a lingering lover caressing your body robbing your will destroying your strength and stealing your flesh. Death leaves you with nothing but your soul and your memories. I have been watching the slow death of a dignified King for two weeks now, and my sorrow rips at my heart, but in this process I have heard no cries of pain or self pity from this noble animal. I have simply watched his gait become more unsteady, the arthritis in his joint swell, and then recede. His hind legs waver with each step, but not fall. I watch an animal die as he has lived with a nobility and dignity any human would be grateful to possess. I have a deep sorrow in my soul, and I don’t know what to do with it. I call him my dear, my boy, my sweet boy, and wipe his eyes with a damp cloth and make sure he has shade and an old sweatshirt beneath his head. Small comforts sometimes mean the most. I remember when I was in labor with my first son…my husband took a damp cloth and wiped my brow. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, and I have never forgotten it. He left me for another woman, but I could never hate the man . He was selfish, but he also provided me with two fine sons and some beautiful memories. It is better to remember the good and then move on, but the process of mourning a marriage, a man, or a lovely dog is still the same. The tears must flow, and the fortitude must be summoned to work with tears rolling down ones cheeks and tears that pool inside one’s soul.

He is gone now but he will never be forgotten. We buried him March 27, 2009. The King is dead long live the King.