By David Trinko
The Lima News
He was a golden retriever snarkily named Brother. Little did we know how much he’d become part of our family or how much we’d miss him now that he’s gone.
His tale started the day we brought him home as a puppy. With only daughters in our famiy, we decided on the name Brother, so we could give people a good answer when they’d ask when we planned to give our girls a brother.
He didn’t have as easy of a life as we’d hoped. Early on, we learned he had deteriorating vision. That helped turn the already friendly golden retriever into an uber-affectionate, fully reliant friend of the family.
Sometimes we’d call him our 75-pound moving carpet. When my wife baked, he’d often sneak up behind her and lay down behind her feet, tripping her if she didn’t realize he was there. He just wanted to be around us so much.
Over the years, he was a great companion on walks or while watching TV. We have two other dogs with a great deal more energy, but he always felt like a wise sage. I often thought of him as my spirit animal, a bit quiet and unassuming but so glad to be around those he loved.
We spent about the last year wondering when his last day might be. A visit to the veterinarian told us about some growths near his leg joints that made it harder and harder for him to stand and walk. We learned we could try surgery, but it likely wouldn’t work. We took the advice to let him enjoy what time he had left rather than make him suffer through surgery and recovery.
That made every day feel like a bonus day. He became more and more stationary, to the point he needed us to lift him up when nature called him outside to do his business. His legs often weren’t strong enough to get up on our wood floors anymore, with his feet just sliding underneath him.
That’s when we realized he loved us just as much as we loved him. Even though it was so difficult for him to move around, sometimes you’d find he’d finagled his way up or slid his huge body over to you just for a few scratches behind the ear or a comforting pat on the back.
In the mornings, when he had more energy after eating and going outside, he’d climb up the steps toward our bedrooms just to be in on the action of getting everyone off to school and work. Once he got up there, he was often immobile and in the way, but it was important to him to see us off for the day.
It had been about a month since the last time I remembered him going upstairs. He couldn’t really go anywhere anymore, so my wife and I made the difficult decision to schedule a final appointment for our old, faithful friend at the vet’s office.
So it was Monday morning, when my wife and I lifted him into a wagon and walked him the half mile to the vet. I’ll never forget pulling that wagon down our street, looking back at him as he seemed to smile during one last walk through the neighborhood. I know he couldn’t see much, which was just as well so he couldn’t see the tears rolling down our cheeks as we walked him toward that so-called Rainbow Bridge that pet owners hear so much about.
Right before he died, I petted him on his back and told him what a good dog he’d been for us. I regret not being more honest with him that he was more than a dog to us. We may have named him Brother as an inside joke, but we all loved him like a member of our family. We’ll miss him every day.
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See past columns by David Trinko at LimaOhio.com/tag/trinko.
David Trinko is editor of The Lima News. Reach him at 567-242-0467, by email at [email protected] or on Twitter @Lima_Trinko.
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