Ace, our dog of almost 13 years, was laid to rest on Friday March 21st, 2008. He leaves behind a family that misses him terribly.
I've mentioned Ace in several of my posts, and if you have ever been to my house over the last 13 years, you have certainly met him. He was a large and friendly dog that my wife and I picked out from the local animal shelter approximately one year before our first child was born. It turns out that his other siblings were not able to be adopted, as all of them were sick. We were lucky that we picked him out of the litter before the vet had a chance to look at him.
During the early years of his life, he provided my wife with both companionship and security as our children were born. She wasn't ever worried about being home alone while I was at work, so long as Ace was around. Later on, he was a friend and protector of our children.
During his last year of life, we saw his health steadily decline. His hearing deteriorated quite a bit, and his bouts of nervousness increased. Near the end, he had an eye infection in his left eye that he just couldn't seem to shake off, despite medication. His appetite was a mere fraction of what it used to be. Finally, he lost his footing with his rear legs and hips, and went to the floor. After attempting to get him up and mobile that day, and after several trips to the vet over the previous two weeks, my wife and I decided that it was time to let Ace go.
I have never owned a dog from puppyhood through death, so taking him to the vet on his last day was a new experience for me, and for my kids. The vet and techs were very understanding and helpful. It took four of them to get Ace out of the car and onto a stretcher, such was his lack of mobility. He never made a peep, and seemed content and ready.
After we said our goodbyes to him, I held him as they injected him with the sedatives that would release him. I can only hope he understood how much all of us loved him.
The old cliche goes, "you don't know what you've got until it's gone". I find myself "seeing" him out of the corner of my eye sometimes, only to realize upon further inspection that it was a blanket or shadow. I have to battle to not leave the back door open for him, and still expect to see him first when I come home from work in the afternoon (he was always the first to greet me). I miss his company in the mornings when only he and I were awake in the house as I prepared for work.
Rest in peace, Ace. We love you, and you will never be forgotten.
