And then there were none

I woke up to you fighting hard. Death had showed up out of nowhere. Sure, it was your 18th year, but your spirit was young.  It began squeezing everything out of you, but oh how you fought. You just didn't want to go. Wouldn't let go.  You wouldn't let me pick up your broken body to take you or move you. Besides, where would we have even gone in the time we had? There was nowhere to go but through it. So that's what we did. I kept a hand on you since you couldn't see or hear I was there. And when the end came for you, it came in loud and long. That I'll never forget and how I wish for you I could have ended it quicker. Quieter. You deserved a better end. It just hit like a storm. We had no time. You were very brave Buster. You always were. You came to us 15 or so years ago. You were skittish and sketchy, having been mistreated and crated for most of your life before us. The one and only time you ever played fetch was the day we met you on death row at the pound. You knew what Carl needed to see to okay your adoption. You delivered the goods, and promptly forgot your trick once safe in our family. It took you years to learn to play again. To stop guarding your food. But you mellowed. You trusted. You loved again. Once the babies joined our family, you learned to get where the getting was good. A dropped noodle here...a poptart corner there. Tortillas were gently accepted and fervently buried with your other treasures (underwear) among the cushions of your couches. You could smell anything sweet dropped from another room. You always preferred the sweet over savory. Even until the end, you knew if a pancake covered in syrup had hit the floor. You'd come running from the other end of the house and later waddling, your tail wagging, telling us "I'll handle that". You learned to appreciate a good nap. In your early years with us, you were invited to sleep with your pack, your humans. But you never fell asleep before me. In fact, you laid at my side watching me...staring at me. Keeping watch until I closed my eyes. Today I was given a chance to return to you that favor. Before you lost your hearing, our favorite parlor trick was to howl at the ceiling to the delight of many who came to visit. It was the howl of a wolf, deep and loud, not one of the short squatty body your warrior spirit was taxed with. When you howled, you looked good, and you knew it. You loved a good bandana and even more, a roll in the bed with a dryer sheet fresh out of the laundry. It took years for us to figure out why you smelled so fresh without any effort on our part. You cheated death several time while living with us. Maybe that's why when death finally came for you, it was so angry. You ate an entire pan of dark chocolate brownies without so much as a burp. We had to convince the vet to pump your stomach because "no dog who eats chocolate is this happy". You lived and the vet was astounded. Moving cars and bikes brought out your demons. You became a dog possessed. As a result I witnessed you run over by a super cab pick up truck. I just knew you were dead. I carried you in my arms as the vet looked you over, and once again doubted my claims. "He's fine. No way did that happen." Death lost again. But not today. You battled fiercely, but time was not on our side. Once your body finally relaxed and your spirit released, we gently wrapped you in your blanket and set you in your favorite spot on the family couch. We brought the children over to pay their respects. For a dog who hated children in the early years of his life(and old people, and other dogs, and people who weren't Caucasian, and anything that moved without your permission) you sure loved and protected your babies near the end. They looked at you. Studied you. Henry climbed to the couch, looking and thinking. Beatris poked your eye. For that I'm sorry, she's quick, and knows when to move under cover of distraction,as you frequently were victim. Scolded and unimpressed, Bea waddled off, not knowing that her breakfast bar buddy wasn't hungry anymore. Then came Henry. We stayed quiet and let him have his freedom. He gently patted your tummy. Then leaned over and kissed you. Then again. Then looked puzzled and kissed once more. Usually at this point, you would lift your head and roll the other way or curl into a ball and present your tail. All was quiet this time. Henry finally did what he does when he's desperate for attention. Desperate for interaction, needing someone's love and affection. He quietly signed "tickle me". You didn't move. Henry crawled off the couch and turned his back. You were gone. You are finally with Maisy again, your true love. I will rest easy on this one thought. When Maisy died, I was haunted by the thought that she wouldn't know which way to run to get to Heaven. Now you're there to show her. You were always the smart one. The capable one. The distinguished gentleman. And that gives me peace. I wish I could have given you the dignity and relief you so intensely deserved at the end. But there was no time. No obvious action that i could provide. I had nothing to work with. I failed you in the end. I should have done more for the beautiful rusty brown dog with deep and dark human brown eyes and short furry Berenstein Bear feet.  Who, 15 years ago, stood guard for me, then for my mate, and then for my offspring. You were a proud, dignified and devilishly handsome protector.  You deserved a death worthy of the life you lived for your pack.  Our Alpha Dog.  You were the bravest of the brave until the last breath. Until the last gentle beat I felt of your heart, like a birds wings. Beating, then a flutter, and then finally still. You were loved. You were wonderful. You are missed. Rest in Peace Brave Buster Brown.