Hobo is gone. He was our sweet old dog friend. Just an amazing friendly personality, quiet and calm. A nobility. He had trouble breathing, and we took him to the emergency (vet) hospital. They took x-rays. Poor guy had almost no lung function, cancer everywhere.
The YYM and I held him as his last breath, unlabored because they had him on oxygen, went out. That's the third time I have seen a dog put down. Something goes out of the world, something is gone. Call it spirit, spark, electrical impulses, whatever you want. But it's remarkable.
Two pix of Hobo when he was young. Loved to nap in the sun, even then. Note the stick in his mouth. He was playing dead, waiting for me to try to grab the stick so he could run away.
And Hobo loved the YYM. YYM called Hobo his "little brother." Sweet. Here they are in July, 2001, just two months after we got him. (Hobo, not the YYM). Hobo is having a little nip of ear. Yum!
Hobo had been scheduled to be euthanized, at the pound, in early 2001. He was "aggressive," and nobody would take him. But the lady who worked there said he was a great dog, and thought he was just scared because he was always being moved around. So we took him home, because he had the most interesting and expressive eyes.
At the end Hobo just mostly napped in the warm sun. And of course I was happy to join him. His muzzle and the fur around his eyes had gone totally white, by the end. We had him eleven years, and he was part of our family. Goodbye, old friend.
UPDATE: From comments....Oatmeal, and the paradox that is dog.
The YYM and I held him as his last breath, unlabored because they had him on oxygen, went out. That's the third time I have seen a dog put down. Something goes out of the world, something is gone. Call it spirit, spark, electrical impulses, whatever you want. But it's remarkable.
Two pix of Hobo when he was young. Loved to nap in the sun, even then. Note the stick in his mouth. He was playing dead, waiting for me to try to grab the stick so he could run away.
And Hobo loved the YYM. YYM called Hobo his "little brother." Sweet. Here they are in July, 2001, just two months after we got him. (Hobo, not the YYM). Hobo is having a little nip of ear. Yum!
Hobo had been scheduled to be euthanized, at the pound, in early 2001. He was "aggressive," and nobody would take him. But the lady who worked there said he was a great dog, and thought he was just scared because he was always being moved around. So we took him home, because he had the most interesting and expressive eyes.
At the end Hobo just mostly napped in the warm sun. And of course I was happy to join him. His muzzle and the fur around his eyes had gone totally white, by the end. We had him eleven years, and he was part of our family. Goodbye, old friend.
UPDATE: From comments....Oatmeal, and the paradox that is dog.
9 comments:
'Sorry to hear it.
So sorry about your loss. Our dog Cleo is now in her 16th year with us and I fear we'll be in your shoes soon. I've had to put down pets before but when one has been part of the family for so long it is just heart breaking.
Sorry about your dog, guy. Seems like he had a good home, and what more could a dog want?
I like the Oatmeal's summation.
http://theoatmeal.com/comics/dog_paradox
Mike --
Sorry to hear about losing Hobo.
Just started following your work. Sorry, loyal beasts they are, Im on beer, dogs are brilliant externalities, heres a song, Floggin Molly-Every Dog Has it's day, Godspeed and such.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pP40g_OjxRY
Barbara and I also have a dog who was rescued from a scheduled euthanasia. Ffleuter looks remarkably like Hobo. He's a gentle and obedient dog. I learned to love him thanks to my daughter, Kira.
RIP, Hobo!
Our 12-year old cat Jenny had to be put to rest three days earlier. Same thing: cancer in her stomach.
So it goes.
Sorry about Hobo. We lost Snickers the same way this spring after 12 great years.
It is one of fundamental unfairnesses of the world that dogs' healthy lifespans are not coterminous with those of their loving people.
I used to think that dogs existed to give unconditional love. But it dawned on me lately that, quite the reverse, they exist to receive, very uncomplicatedly, our unconditional love.
You can never replace him, of course. But you can find one to carry on in his stead.
Mike,
I am truly sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing some of Hobo's life with us through this post.
In sympathy,
JD
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