Hero on his favorite couch
They say, “A dog is man’s best friend.” I’m not sure my wife would agree with nor appreciate that statement, but yesterday morning - after 3 weeks of illness with some good progress and depressing setbacks, our 9-year-old yellow Lab retriever named Hero, passed away.
I had been up with him until 1:00am or so forcing him to drink water by squirting it through a plastic needle-less syringe into his mouth - a tedious procedure to say the least. He looked good - really good. He was laying in a sitting up position, holding his head up, eyes bright, nose even a little moist and wagging as I spoke to him.
I hesitated to go to bed because he was in our office on his favorite little couch/bed and not in our bedroom where I could hear him and respond if any need came up. But his condition was so good that I thought he would for sure be okay until Caleb woke up - which I knew would be in only a couple o hours since he had just flown in the day before with Candace from Phoenix, AZ.
Sure enough, Caleb awoke about 3:15 and went in to check on Hero. Hero’s breathing was shallow, labored, and fast. Caleb tried to comfort him and within moments he stopped breathing. Caleb raced upstairs to our room and cried out, “Hero’s not breathing!” Linda woke up immediately and raced down with Caleb. I was seconds behind as my mind began to clear and heard Linda cry out, “HERO! Nooooo! Hero!”
He was gone. As handsome as any Lab could ever be, he lay peacefully on his little couch.
I still hear him, smell him and miss his presence. I woke up this morning and looked toward the foot of our bed where his bed usually lays with him on it. When my alarm rings, Hero’s tail begins to wag as he anticipates me rising from bed, petting his head, greeting him and then calling him to the kitchen for breakfast. He would wait on the rug in the hall as I fixed his food and when it was ready, we would go through his series of “tricks” - sit, shake, bear (sitting with paws raised like an attacking bear), dead (I would shoot the bear), up (back to the sitting position), wait (he would sit patiently waiting for me to give him the “ok” to go eat) and finally, “Okay!” (the signal for clearance to devour his meager meal.
Often. then, he would join me in the living room as I drank my coffee and ate my breakfast while having my devotional time with the Lord - reading His Word, praying and preparing my mind and heart for the day ahead. Occasionally, he would rest his head on my leg and just gaze into my face admiringly - “What was he “thinking?”“ I often wondered. Why was he so devoted to me, my family?
He wasn’t perfect - no one person is (other than the Lord Jesus) nor is any animal - but he was as close to the perfect pet as any I have ever seen.
His favorite words: breakfast, dinner, treat, walk and ride. The phrase that got the biggest reaction from him most often was, ”Who’s that?“ He would perk up, run to the door or balcony and look to see who was coming.
His favorite people: Our family and anyone who came to visit us. He loved people - sometimes to a fault.
I don’t know if dogs will be in Heaven - it certainly is a subject for debate - but if there were ever a chance for one to be there, it would be Hero. He ”loved” as much as any I have ever seen. Of course, if you had food in your hand, then he’d love you more, but he still loved without condition - except for the husky down the street that bit his nose when we first moved into the neighborhood! ;-)
I miss him. My furry, four-legged buddy, Hero.
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