Death has always been hard for me to handle, even when I don't know the person that well. Just ask my dad. Me and death do not mix well. I have mourned just as hard, if not harder, for people I have never met. I have mourned their loss and sometimes feel as if I am experiencing the feelings of the individual who actually experienced the loss. Does that make sense? Needless to say, coping gracefully with loss is not my strongest characteristic. The weird part about that is I know that this life is only temporary. I know that I will see those I love when I die. I know that if they were suffering from illness and disease that they will be free and at peace. I know that we will be together again. I know that we will all be resurrected and have perfect bodies and live together forever. No more illness. No more death. I know that. But, knowing that with such a surety still does not take away the ache I feel.

Why am blabbing about death? Because on Friday, April 2, 2010 my family's dog Gus passed away. He developed cancer that was not treatable. He got to the point where he was physically miserable and his quality of life deteriorated. My parents made the decision to have him put down. Not an easy decision. Gus has been part of our family since he was a puppy, nearly 13 years ago. We got him for Christmas in 1997. I remember when we decided to name him. I desperately wanted him to be called Octavius, Gus for short... like on Cinderella. Not sure how I won but I can't imagine him going by any other name. I have always been afraid of dogs. Truthfully, I still am... until I know and trust them. Gus was the most gentle dog I have ever met. Once I got over the shock of initial puppy nibbles I never felt afraid around him. He didn't jump. He didn't bite. He didn't chew my shoes. He was also the most human of any dog I've ever known. He mastered the one eyebrow raise. He folded his arms with the family when we prayed together. He cut in line to get the first of the chocolate chip cookies hot out of the oven.

He had bad gas... fit right in with my brothers. :) Brian and him had their own secret language. He hung out in the kitchen if mom was there... just like the rest of us. He smiled when you took pictures of him. No lie. He
loved the camera. He was not shy. Just like the rest of us kids he didn't like to be left out. He played dress up with Cameron... even donning a tutu and a witches hat. He had bad habits (like eating dead deer...gross). He snored. He had nightmares. He LOVED to lay on his back spread eagle with a big smile on his face. He also loved chasing... his tail... deer... a favorite toy. He liked being close to people... just like me. He was super patient... not like me. ;) He was a lazy fart in his older years... living out his retirement in style.

He kept us safe. Watched over us. He put up with grandchildren pretending he was a stuffed animal. He let them love on him and was patient and gentle even when they weren't. He felt fear...hated thunderstorms. He experienced sadness and loss... when we would leave and go off to college or move away from home. He empathized with our feelings... a silent support. He felt excited when we went outside to play. He was attentive to little clues.... like mom always unwrapping a mint and putting it in her mouth, using the restroom, and then taking him on their morning walks. He would get so excited that he couldn't wait for her to finish using the bathroom. He learned how to jiggle the handle and pop the door open. A little eager? I think so. He listened and obeyed. He was sneaky at times. He would try to trick family members into feeding him breakfast twice. Sometimes he succeeded. He loved playing at the pool and getting splashed but hated actually falling in... he's heavy too and getting him out of the pool is no small task. He never forgot me... even when I changed my hairstyle or when I was gone for a long time. He was a member of our family. We often referred to him as our brother... one of the famdogs. I knew he wouldn't be with us forever but it's still weird to think that he is really gone. I know he is free of illness and the ailments of old age and I am grateful for the knowledge I have about life after death. But... my heart hurts and my eyes are wet as I mourn his loss. I will miss that stinky ol' dog. :)
