Missing our furry friend

I got a call from my Mom earlier today, frantic about the condition of Breda, our long time German shepherd. The dog was in significant pain, so I told Mom to just take her to the vet immediately, and not a half-hour later, my mom called back in tears. Unbeknownst to us, the dog had a large tumor that burst causing internal injury and bleeding. There was nothing the vet could do, and my mom had to make the difficult choice of putting her down. 

Being such a patient dog waiting by my feet.

Until she sees someone she wants to say hi to!

Anyone who owns a dog and cares for them knows that dogs are territorial animals, or at least are descendants of a very territorial species. The thing we are so unprepared for is when we realize that the dog has claimed such a large territory in our hearts upon leaving our world. 

It's hard for me to write about it without having a massive problem of forming my own thoughts to words, but some years ago, one of the giants (and one of my heroes) of the blogging world lost her dog as well, and being an accomplished author, does a far better job than I in expressing feelings on the subject:

Barkley

Breda had lived a good while, and like any cared for family dog, has a unique, quirky, and loving personality. She was never one to get hugs or cuddles, but was very insistent on getting attention and affection in her own way by pushing her side into you while looking back over at you with that expectant look, waiting for you to pet her. She always had such long, fuzzy, flowing hair for a German shepherd and because of that, Mom always took to saying she looked more like a fuzzy muppet than a dog. I just took to calling her the fuzz-ball of love. 

Breda had an insatiable obsession for all forms of flowing water, and was one of the things that would always get her excited. She was an excellent companion to my mother through the years and was very patient and understanding with her human.

Breda looking stoic with an uncharacteristically closed mouth.

Mom got the dog over 10 years ago, and I remember that Breda had to actually learn how to bark correctly. When we first got her, she had this almost painful, awkward howl she would make instead. Thankfully she got the hang of a good bark later on. 

Since I left on my own, the dog was always excited to see me come back and visibly distraught when I left. She was also a very sentimental dog, and her favorite toy was the one we got her for Christmas a couple years ago. I was looking forward to seeing her again on Thanksgiving, and I hate that I won't be able to. Mom and I will miss that darn dog, and I don't think I've had such heartache since my father died. So long, sweet doggo.