At the expense of proposing a story that must by now be jaded and trite in this section; our beloved baby, little boy, and son was taken from us by a vehicle as he took not two steps from the curbside.
He was 6.5 years old, a beautiful fluffy white shihtzu. My wife got him as a puppy about a year and a half before she and I met and subsequently wed. He was her first dog/puppy that she raised on her own at her own home. He was always her baby, first born son.
Over the past 5 years with him, he had become my dog. He looked up to me. He always wanted to be assisted onto the couch or bed so that he could lie next to me for a head or belly rub. Teasingly, it always made my wife jealous. His favorite, a back rub. He also loved being drug around on his belly by his front paws against the slick hard wood floors.
We have been in a rental home on a very very busy street inner-city for 2 years, and were moving home to a smaller suburban area within 30 days. We had a makeshift fence that had kept them inside, other than a few sporadic break-outs that were quickly resolved.
My wife was at work, I had let all 3 of our dogs out back to potty. I saw Dolce's eyes moments before he negotiated his escape. He had been playing and had grass in his fluffy hair. He looked straight at me. Before I could realise, he was on his way out to the front yard.
By the time I reached the front door, his body laid on the side of the street. A woman had already pulled over to check on him (the driver did not stop). I was hysterical. He was obviously lifeless. She helped me wrap him up. He had no signs of blood or otherwise derangement. I still couldnt bare to look. I drove him to the nearest vet (Sat Feb 2nd at 5pm), barely caught a vet that was closing, they did a final check but agreed to put him into storage.
The worst part was driving to pick my wife up from work who had no idea. Her manager eloquently escorted her out to me. Ive never heard a shrill so loud in my entire life to say the least.
We spent the night crying. A good portion of mine based out of guilt from being the one who let them out knowing there had been escapes in the past. Our other 2 dogs were safe though, Dolce was just an awnry adventurer.
Today has been much better. She managed to let the vet skeleton crew to let her in to see him.
We will do the same in the morning, together, for final goodbyes and cremation arrangements. Im brining a couple favorite toys and a picture of his beloved mom and dad to be cremated with him. My wife always took a lock of his hair. I will be distraught once more to say goodbye and run my fingers thru his, and rub his favorite spots.
I find some peace in knowing it was an apparent head injury that led to instant death, preceded by his joyous jont across the street to go on an adventure. He was the leader of the pack and the tough guy after all.
It's been roughly 7 years since ive dealt with the death of a pet. The last two essentially from age, so this is the first from an accident that feels as tho it was avoidable. The guilt is unbearable. My wife assures me she is not mad at me, but I am yet mad at myself.
He was a solitude boy. He wasnt in your face with kisses. He stood back to take it all in, and sit by you when no one was around and knew it was beneficial for the both of us to do so. He had has quirks. Always cried incessantly at potty time, nice as he was well trained-- just no well enough to hold it in. He loved to bark at the neighbor dogs. But to go outside or on a walk was like heaven on earth.
he would do these spin-moves as we approached the door in excitement.
upon arriving from outside, he loved his "good-boy" scratch on the back, he always waited for it.
upon arriving home or anytime he was feeling awnry or wanted something, he would "paw at the ground", stretching his front paws out in front of him, stretching one out at a time - most of the time, his paws landing on my feet. cute with shoes on, painful without.
he has his own crate tucked in my closet. he felt safe in his crate, in the closet. while he would love to be rubbed as were in bed before sleeping, he usually ended up in that crate, safe, and sound.
I feel as though Ive cheated him from that feeling. He depended on me. And Ive let him down. We do have our two other babies thank God, but the house is quiet. By now he would be looking at me STRAIGHT in the eye to help him on the bed to be rubbed while I studied or typed.
My mother in law was in town for 2 nights just a few days ago, he stayed downstairs with me in the couch the hole time. He knew he was keeping me company.
I just cant wrap my head around the fact that he was so full of life, excitement, happiness, and love... as little as 36 hrs ago... and the 6+ years before that.
Tonight is ok, only cried a couple times. Wife;s friends are keeping her busy with condolences.
I know this happens everyday, but we were so close to moving home to a better life, away from that street and into a yard with a real fence.
Im going to go say my goodbye tomorrow morning at 730AM before making arrangements. I don't do well with goodbyes, but I guess thats natural. Im going to hug, pet, and kiss that little boy's fluffy body more than ever before. I wont know how to say that final goodbye before leaving the room.
He could have brightened our lives for 10 more years. I cant get over that.
I didnt prevent somethin that was preventable. And now my wife's baby and my best friend is dead.
Thanks for listening, it feels good to just go over all of it on paper.
