On May 1, 2024, my beloved dog, Spike, passed on to a better place. He was a sixteen-year old Parson Russell (or maybe a Jack Russell) mix, plagued by arthritis and Cushing’s disease, and barely eating. He’d take a treat or two from me, but he wasn’t eating his dog food no matter what I mixed in with it, even his favorite polish sausage. He had a rough time walking, especially on uneven ground. Spike loved to explore, but he no longer could navigate the terrain of the landscaping.
I’ve written many a post about Spike. Stories about adopting him, how he has been such a big part of my life, etc. At 30 pounds in his prime, he was a tough dog. He was a mighty little guy who backed down from no one, neither man nor beast. He was constantly on guard, protecting me from strangers, who, in his mind, were not to be trusted.
I think the hardest part of no longer having Spike here is he is not following me around our home. He would never let me leave a room alone. He had to be right with me the entire time. As he got older, he sometimes slept so soundly that he didn’t notice me walking away. But quick as a wink, he would wake up, and I’d hear his dog tags jingling as he came romping down the hall to find me. I still find myself looking for Spike behind me.
On the rare occasion when I did have to leave our home for such things as grocery shopping or going out to lunch with a friend or family, Spike would position himself in the hall right by the entryway so he would see me the moment I returned.
These last few days without Spike have been very lonely. He used to wake me up to go for a quick potty walk at four o’clock in the morning. One of the symptoms of Cushing’s disease is an insatiable thirst. That, of course, leads to frequent peeing. Those 4AM walks became 2AM, 4AM, and 6AM walks. It was hard on me sleep wise, but he really didn’t have a choice. In his last few days, he became incontinent and wet his bed in his sleep. I would clean him up as well as his bed. I could see he was embarrassed. I pet him and told him it was OK. I still loved him.
So now Spike is off running leash-free at last and chasing squirrels and wild turkeys and a deer or two. I bet when his day is done he parks himself by the door waiting for me to come home.