Rhino Ramblings

The Best Picture of the Best Dog

This was initially going to be a blog about grief – I certainly have been through the grief wringer the past two weeks.  But it seems like I would just be piling on to several recent blogs about loss – of course that might be due to having losses piling up on me and topped with having to unexpectedly and rapidly having to say good-bye to my 9.5 year companion, Midas.  So let’s skip grief and go with tribute.  I know everyone thinks their pet is special – and perhaps they all are right.  But there is no perhaps for me –Midas was special to me.  Sure, as a Golden Retriever, he was genetically programmed to be an adorable furry love-bug with key characteristics including: never not eating anything edible; constantly wanting to be touched; loving to play fetch (wow – a retriever likes to retrieve, what a concept); searching for something to put in his mouth before greeting someone; and having a particular object for carrying around.  Just watch any Retriever video, and there are definitely themes that tie them all together.  But there can also be differences.  First was a 50% difference – I selected a male because I read that females love their owner; males love everyone – and boy did Midas love everyone.  At least as long as they loved him.  He knew to wait for a sign.  A smile, outreached hand, eye contact, or some other sign – as soon as he saw it, it was time to go over and have them love him. In terms of total uniqueness, surprisingly, there is his name.  It seems perfect – King Midas and the Golden Touch.  And yet I never saw it in any lists of dog names. Ah well – I am happy with having picked a not so common name.  Next is his nose.  Why?  Definitely unique – while a puppy, my daughter’s Boston Terrier, Sox, scratched Midas’s nose and marked him as Sox’s forever.  The scar was always a distinctive feature.  And going back to his general Retriever good behavior.  I selfishly thought it was a little special and beyond the norm but also wondered if I was deceiving myself.  The day we discovered he was riddled with cancer he was at PetSmart Doggie Day Care which he loved and the staff claimed that he was special.  Sure –they have to say that. But it turns out that he was.  The entire staff (except one who was too distraught) came over to say good bye, and two got permission to stay with Midas and me through the end.  After, the doctor said how unusual it was for the staff to be so attached and participate in the final farewell.  But back to the beginning – what made Midas special to me was that he was my first dog as my pet.  My kids introduced me to dogdom.  First when Katy graduated from college and lived with me and I let her get the first dog in my life, Spencer, a Boston Terrier.  Michael followed suit a few years later and lived with me after graduation and he got a Boxer, Lily.  They convinced me that a dog can be a wonderful addition.  And Midas sure was.  There are so many stories and images that go through my mind as I sit here crying copiously and knowing that losing him has made a giant hole in my life.  A hole that cannot be filled a whose presence in my life cannot be duplicated.  I guess this is ending up about grief. That hole is one of grief.  It will remain a part of me.  It is not a destructive grief – I will always have the hole but I promise myself and the memory of Midas that I will not be stuck in it. Life goes on;  I begin to cope with the next new reality and will find new paths with family, friends, animals and the actions and activities that continue on.  Thank you Midas for all you were and are in my life.