The Briar Philosopher - The Passing of a Friend

This one is a hard one to write, y’all and I expect it will be a hard one to read for a few of you. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t seem like much but up close and personal it goes straight to the heart. Our oldest dog, Little Bit, walked on Sunday morning. Of all the euphemisms for death, “walked on” is my preference because it implies continuance and I can’t imagine a spirit as strong as hers not continuing in some way.

Little Bit had been failing for quite a few months. She was old already when she came to us seven years ago. She was very sick and starved, eat up with the mange to the point she had already lost the eyesight in one eye. Someone had just set her off somewhere near the house and left her to die. But she was tough. We treated her and got her healthy again and loved her and she healed up completely except for the cloudy eye.

She was stubborn and self-possessed. Both she and Shep, the other stray that came to us starved about the same time, had major food anxiety issues. Shep is considerably larger than Little Bit and he would try to bully her at feeding time. She’d just stand there eating as if to say, “Either go ahead and kill me or leave me alone. I’m eating now.” He finally gave up the bullying and they were best friends to the end. She was short and sassy and took no flak from anyone.

She looked like somebody had set a beagle on a bulldog’s legs and she only cleared the ground by about 6 inches but that was no obstacle for her. I went out one day and one of the neighbor dogs, who was always picking on another of our smaller dogs, was laying on her back with Little Bit straddling her chest just looking her in the eye. The neighbor dog accepted Little Bits authority and never picked on anyone again. For all her tiny size, she was the undisputed Queen of the ridge.

We noticed her getting weaker back last summer and had started bringing her in the house to eat every evening and giving her special food to help her stay with us as long as possible. It didn’t take her long to get used to that. By the third day when 5:30 rolled around she would be at the door barking for her supper. We offered to let her stay in the house but she would have none of that. She’d stand at the door and bark until she was let back out. I suspect she had always been an outside dog and she was fiercely independent.

Even when she got to where she’d get too tired to walk up the hill without sitting down and I’d go carry her up she wouldn’t stay in the house. Saturday I noticed her breathing was more labored and when I brought her in to eat she only ate a little and got a big drink of water. I made her a bed thinking surely she’d stay in now but weak as she was she insisted on going back out. I put new straw in her little cozy house and she went right in and laid down. I knew she couldn’t go much longer.

We discussed taking her to the vet but knew with her advanced age and condition they would just tell us we needed to put her down and we’d agree and then she would die on a cold table in a cold room. Saturday night I took her a heated wrapped brick out to keep her warm. I really didn’t expect her to make it through the night.

That night I dreamed she came to the door and I went out with her and lay down with her in the straw in front of her house. She climbed right up on my chest and I hugged and petted her then she walked down toward the woods with Shep and she never came back. When I went out Sunday morning she was still alive and she turned around to stick her head out of her little house and raise her little face to mine. She always liked being right in my face.

Her breathing was shallow and I just sat there and petted her and told her what a strong beautiful girl she was and that it was ok if she didn’t want to fight anymore. She’d done enough fighting. She looked me right in the eye with her one good eye, laid her head across my arm, took two deep breaths and walked on.

It was a hard hard moment but I’m so glad I was there for it, so glad she wasn’t alone or on a cold table. So glad she was in her warm house with her warm straw and she got to have me there with her. I don’t know that I really believe in such things but I like to think that the dream was her saying goodbye. Of course, I’m crying as I write this.

We buried her near the fence where all the dogs could be present and, when the weather warms up, I’ll plant sunflowers there because she loved the sunshine so much. We put fresh straw in the grave for her to rest on because fresh straw was one of her favorite things in the whole world. We will miss her forever and there is no way we could ever forget her. She got seven extra years of love that she wouldn’t have had if she hadn’t found us and claimed our hearts and I’m glad for every moment of it. I have no regrets, other than her passing, which was inevitable.

If you are fortunate enough to know the love of a four-legged critter, cherish that.
If you’re fortunate enough to know the love of any critter, human or otherwise, cherish that. Love is the greatest gift any of us can receive, no matter the number of legs.