Bear - November 30, 2002
I first got Bear when I was nineteen. I went to our local animal shelter to pick out what I thought was a German shepherd puppy. He was about 6 months old, and sort of looked like a German shepherd. It wasn't until a year or so later that he morphed into his true breed - a mix of shepherd, border collie, and Wookie. He slept on the foot of my bed when I lived at home. Later, when I got married, Bear came with me and slept on the floor curled up next to my side of the bed. When my husband left for work, Bear would jump up into his vacated side of the bed, stretch out, put his head on the pillow, and go to sleep.
He lay under my daughter's bassinet and, later, her crib, to protect her from all strangers. He played tag with the cat and soccer with one of my daughter's balls. If a stranger came into the house (public service meter reader, for instance) Bear wouldn't leave my side. If I was sick in bed, he stayed on the foot, curled into a little ball with his nose tucked into his bushy tail.
He was diagnosed with a spinal tumor at the beginning of November, started to respond to steroid therapy, and but then crashed. He stayed on the main floor of our townhouse, in his favorite spot by the slider, where his sunbeam was. Friday night, he surpised me when he woke me up by nudging me with his cold nose. He put his head on the bed, so I could pet him, and then he slowly turned and went back downstairs. I still think he knew and he wanted to be a part of our ritual one last time.
Saturday morning, he was almost totally paralyzed from the middle of his back down. My husband and I took him to the vet and made the toughest decision of my life. I just sat on the floor of the exam room with him, his head in my lap, and there was nothing but peace as he slipped away.
His ashes are in a lovely box in my office, with his collar and his favorite toy. It's been almost five years, yet I still miss him as if it's only been a few days.
) was a German Shepherd. He was the sweetest dog I've ever had. He was a total ham for the camera and I have some beautiful pictures of him. He would sit for hours if I asked him to while I snapped away. He loved to play ball and would sleep outside my bedroom door at night. The day he was hit was one of the most devestating of my life. I had let him out for a few minutes before I left for work and he ran across the road after a stray dog that had been hanging around. The guy that hit him never saw him coming and had no chance to stop. He helped me load Brody in my truck but he never made it to the vet.
