R.I.P

I'm very sad to report that Bugsy has gone to be with St. Lassie.

He had a very rough night on Wednesday and was clearly uncomfortable all day yesterday. (The Neighbor's son and his girlfriend were with him all day). When she got home from work they decided that keeping him alive at this point was more for them than for him and so they took him to the vet and were with him when he died.

And yes, we were all crying and very sad last night because Bugsy was a part of our family, too. He stayed with us whenever she was out of town. On nice days, when The Neighb would leave him out in the yard, he'd come over to the fence to say "hi" and get his head scratched through the fence.

People who don't have pets don't understand how much a part of the rhythm of your life they become. And dogs, in particular, occupy a special place in the life of a family. They have so much personality, they give love so unconditionally. When our Cat was sick and possibly dying that made us all very sad. But once The Child looked up at me and said, "Oh, mommy, if I'm this sad about The Cat, what would it be like if it was The Dog?" It hurts to even contemplate it.

Which is why we all know how hard this is for The Neighbor and her kids. (We're all so glad both of them were in town when all this happened).

Bugsy was 15 and 1/2. He led a very exciting life for a Bichon. The Son used to treat him as if he were a Doberman...taking him off on surfing vacations and the like. He got to fly to Montana last Christmas. (The picture above is from that trip; he's posing with The Son).

He was a family dog who became the beloved, constant companion of The Neighbor when she went through her divorce. He was with her when the kids left the nest and he always seemed to be just a smidge more sprightly whenever either of them returned home. He was a quiet, loving little chap who looked like a foo-foo dog but had the heart of a champion. He was dearly loved.

We're going to have a wake for him in a couple of weeks. That'll be a good thing. And maybe, when some time has passed, The Neighbor will get another dog. (She's hardly ever been without one in her whole life. The Spouse has suggested that she send up black smoke every day and then, when she gets a new dog, signal its arrival with white smoke. What a card). Of course, she can't really think about that right now. Now is the time for just missing Bugsy and being grateful for all his doggy years of friendship.

Rest in peace, Bugs. Hope all the fire hydrants in heaven are solid gold.