Thomas passed away on my lap this morning. It was a peaceful dignified death…one we can all aspire to. To be held safely by a loved one while our pain and suffering quietly and painlessly slips away.
We adopted Thomas about a year after Toby came home. Toby and I went to the breeder’s house and chose one of the cute blond goldens and took him outside to play. All was good. Toby seemed to like him and we all loaded into the Duck and headed home. I thought it best to have his new “brother” be in on the adoption process.
About two minutes into the ride with puppy and year-old Toby in the back, Toby realized this was for the long haul and got pissed. He snapped at Thomas and a horrible squeal emanated from the little guy. I had to pull over and bring him up front with me..dripping with Toby spittle. We all calmed down and headed home. I watched over the two for the rest of the day and then Toby did it again. Just jumped all over the baby. Poor little Thomas ran up my legs and jumped into my arms. I held him like a baby until he fell asleep. It took a couple of days for Toby’s alpha shit to settle down and they soon became fast friends.
However, Toby’s dominance did not last long. Within six months it was clear Thomas was the boss. With his sad eyes, pink nose…he could be quite the hard headed bossy guy.
Thomas was a favorite of all the cats. I think because he was little like them.
He absolutely loved cats. When I brought Spike II home, he was only about a month old and weighed less than a pound. Thomas took over the mommy duties and washed his little butt and made him potty. Thomas made sure he had a daily bath and Spike was the only cat allowed to sleep on his mat. He would curl up in Thomas’ tail or between his giant paws and sleep for hours. Thomas would sit and snuggle with him. When four year old Spike was hit and killed by a car…Thomas gave him a bath before we buried him.
Thomas was great with humans of all ages. He would come up to folks at the dog park from behind and stick his head between their legs. So, I would always then introduce Thomas since we was getting so familiar.
However, he could be a real asshole when it came to other dogs. And the worst part was you NEVER knew when he was going to go off. He never gave a warning growl and he never broke the skin. He just liked putting other dogs…large or small in their place. Our dog park days were over. His nickname became Asshole.
Other than that, he was a fun guy who liked getting his own way. He had more of a aloof cat personality than a needy dog. He loved showing off his toys and when someone came in the house. He would run to his toy box and grab one and stick it in your face. Toby was no longer allowed to have, hold or play with toys. They were taken from him by Asshole when he tried.
I will say he did enjoy the months he was the only dog around here.
Thomas was old, stiff, not too sure on his feet and suffering from cancer. The time came to say goodbye. Again, our lovely vet made a home visit and he peacefully slipped away with his head in my lap and Lonnie and I caressing his ears…he loved that.
I saw this on Facebook last week and thought it was really nice and reflects how I feel:
Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love, they depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog; it merely expands the heart. If you have loved many dogs your heart is very big.
God, my heart is big and today very lonely and sad.
I used to joke. Thomas and Toby they are TnT together. No one seemed to get it. Dynamite! Get it??
Anyway no exploding of fun, barking, tags shaking, bells ringing or clickity clack of toenails here…it is so damn quiet.
They are up in Heaven now with all my other loves. What a great place to play.