Sometimes it hard to write when you lose someone, not because you don’t miss them, but because you are relieved from the pain and suffering. Brice had been sick for a year. He hadn’t been himself. I guess the life of a dog should be measured in something so simple- walks. It had been a year since he could go for a walk. It had been a year since he enjoyed chasing rocks at the river. So sadly, not too many tears passed when it was time to say good-bye.
But then the relief subsides, and the house seems quite. And then you realize that you no longer will share time with a good friend, even if it has been a long time since you really were able to share time together.
He was Scott’s dog, originally. But he, and Eva, are the reason we are together. He had an Aussie, and so did I. I liked that he was an Aussie person.
Brice spent his time always at my feet. If I was at my desk, he was right there. If we were watching TV he was right there. Eating dinner, right there under the table.
I always said he would give his life for me if someone broke in to our home. He took his role as protector very seriously.
He wasn’t an obedient dog, and I think he concept of listening was limited, maybe like Buttercup he spoke Spanish. But what he lacked in obedience he made up for in his desire to be with his humans.
I will miss going to the river with him. He loved to stand in the water and chase rocks Scott would throw. He has no desire to actually get the rock but just to run after where it hit the water.
I will miss his huffs and puffs when he would lean into you to be loved.
You were a good ol’ dog. Thanks for sharing the journey with me.