Our family dog, Charlie, died on September 8th, 2012. I knew I had to write something about it, but didn't want to say anything until I had it just right. Most of what I wanted to say, I passed along through my family but what I wanted to tell the general public or interweb I have had a difficult time trying to phrase.
He lived over 13 years old, and over 95% of it he was incredibly healthy. He developed some arthritis that slowed him down a bit in the last year, but before that he was full speed all the time. We got him many years ago on a family vacation on the way back from Waterton National park. We had stopped at Hutterite farm to get some lamb (random, I know) and while walking around this tiny pup jumped out of the grass in front of us. My sister squealed and immediately wanted to keep him. Me being the fun sponge of the kids said that we couldn't be responsible enough to take care of him since we had gotten a bird a few years ago and I was doing the lion's share of the work to take care of her. With some persuasion, and only $175 less later, this puppy was in a cardboard box in our van on the way home.
Only did I read later on that border collies have too much energy for their own good, but Charlie sure stayed true to that fact. He bolted anywhere at full speed if wanted to play, and wouldn't stop playing until he was either exhausted or we forced him to stop because he had cut his lip on a stick or something. This energy also manifested itself in his mischievous nature. He would wander off or sneak out of the house if we left a door unlocked on occasion, but he would either wander back rather casually or be stopped by a good samaritan. We would be panicked, frustrated, even angry if he ran away, but would always be relieved and overall in better spirits once he was back home.
Outside of his energy, his primary characteristic was his reliability and loyalty. As my siblings and I grew up, and as our family went through some tumultuous times, Charlie was always there for anyone... especially if we were brave enough to walk him in the dead of winter, or goof around with him inside the house. He bonded the most with my dad, but he would be excited to see any of us, and would nudge his nose against us if we ever seemed down, and that never changed even as he aged.
In his final days (and thankfully this phase only lasted a matter of days), it was incredibly hard because we knew his time was coming and we knew soon we would have to say goodbye, but we equally didn't want him to suffer through his liver disease. I unfortunately couldn't be there to say goodbye to him, but one of the most heartbreaking things my sister said happened was when the whole family was there at the vet for the last visit, and when everyone was obviously very upset, he looked around and seemed distressed seeing the whole family crying. In his fatally ill state, he was still trying to look after them. He left us very peacefully, already asleep.
Despite the ending, I am thankful and in fact incredibly pleased that he lived a very happy and healthy life. It still hurts a bit here and there when I think of him, but the good memories far outweigh the bad ones, and I'll remember him fondly, especially that distinct running style :-)
