A Good Dog

Not interested in sending this one out via social consumption, I just wanted somewhere to post this online for me. 

At 15/potentially 16 years of age, childhood dog Tosca passed on this morning. Last few weeks were rough after she suffered what was presumed to be a stroke. Saw her on Friday for the first time since early October (when she looked frail and all things considering, old, but still was spunky and happy) and she was just a shell, a fragment of herself; lethargic and laying considerably still. She did lift her head up a bit and wagged her tail as much as she could when she saw me. It's the kind of subtle action that breaks your heart.  

She never wanted to run with me, but was the reason my family started taking our two larger (then eventually smaller pooch) beasts to an enclosed area at my nearby school. There were a few times that once she grew into the sizable golden retriever she turned out to be (unlike the husky she looked like as a puppy), we had to chase after her through the backyards on our block as she just wanted to nab a nearby rabbit. There was a point of experimenting with long pieces of close line as  50+ yard leashes, but I can still point out the faint scars on the back of my ankles from when she quickly looped around me and pulled me off my feet (that HURT, it defined pratfall to a tee). She also was an avid fan of swimming after gulls/ducks in Lake Michigan, not totally understanding the whole depth issue of going out too far. 

I happily would take her on little night treks down the street for the final out of the day, especially in the winter (like New Years eve or Christmas night). She barked at everything (leaves, strollers, the mailman, people when my mom would pack all three dogs in the backseat when she would come and pick me/my sister up after school) and was active for the overt majority of her life. Going to really suck not having her around at Christmas  in a few weeks when it just sets in that she isn't there.

Another important component of my childhood is gone. I thought this was supposed to get easier with age. Doesn't feel like it. 

Love this photo of her with an equally beloved Guinea Pig, Victoria. I don't know if it's true or not, but she felt like my dog. And was a great one at that.