HRH Di
New member
On February 29, 2000, we closed on our very first house. After we left the title company, we went straight to the local shelter to pick out a dog. We saw a lovely lab mix with a sprinkling of chow chow cinnamon on her rump, but oddly we passed her by and picked out a more "lab looking" lab. We got to the front counter and her card said "not good with children". So back she went, and the girl with the cinnamon "bustle" came home with us.
We named her Shelby and almost immediatly we knew how incredibly lucky we were to have such a wonderful girl. She was the pinnacle of devotion and loyalty. She was caring and nuturing and loving. She'd take a bullet for any of us. But she did have a "look" telling us that she didn't really approve of all our decisions...like when we brought Gracie the schnauzer home. Sure, Gracie's sweet and cute, but there really isn't much between the ears. And Dexter, well, he was an icky boy, but she mourned with us when he died too young. Then there was Luke, not only an icky boy, but common-senseless. She tired to teach him, but we didn't give her much to work with.
She guarded the yard from carneys and made sure we knew when a stranger was at the door. She'd let strangers in the house if we told her they were okay, but she watched them until she was sure...even my father-in-law. He wasn't allowed down the stairs the first time he came to visit.
Her coat was beautiful glossy black - so healthy and shiny it almost glowed. Her cinnamon bustle came and went with the semi-annual shedding. She had a wonderful smile that beamed with how much she loved our family. She was a food thief and never really forgot the years before she was ours when food was hard to come by. She was perfect and the example to which all future dogs will be compared and always found lacking.
Every single day for more than 11 years, Shelby greeted us at the door when we came home.
Over the years, her coat started to lose it's glossiness and her muzzle became less black and more silver. Her warm brown eyes lost their brightness and her smile came less often. It was harder and harder to get up the stairs to sleep under the window in our room...making sure carneys didn't come in. Eventually, she was carried up every night. Her back legs got weaker and weaker.
Then it happened, yesterday her back legs gave out. We knew she was in pain...her panting was rapid and shallow. She tried to stand but her body just wouldn't obey. We all knew it was time. She never liked riding in the car much, but her last ride was on her dad's lap in the convertible with the fresh air in her face. We stayed with her until the end.
We know it was the right thing to do, but we still second guess ourselves. Did she have another day? another week? or had we waited too long already and made her enure more pain than she needed to.
Our whole family is in mourning. Luke didn't know how to eat his breakfast. Shelby always got her kibbles first then he got his. He didn't know if he should start eating or not. Ruby started saying "Move, Shelby" and "Hey, Shelbers" lately...that's going to be rough.
Today will be the first time in more than 11 years that she won't be at the door when I get home. My sweet Shelby, our brown-eyed girl.
We named her Shelby and almost immediatly we knew how incredibly lucky we were to have such a wonderful girl. She was the pinnacle of devotion and loyalty. She was caring and nuturing and loving. She'd take a bullet for any of us. But she did have a "look" telling us that she didn't really approve of all our decisions...like when we brought Gracie the schnauzer home. Sure, Gracie's sweet and cute, but there really isn't much between the ears. And Dexter, well, he was an icky boy, but she mourned with us when he died too young. Then there was Luke, not only an icky boy, but common-senseless. She tired to teach him, but we didn't give her much to work with.
She guarded the yard from carneys and made sure we knew when a stranger was at the door. She'd let strangers in the house if we told her they were okay, but she watched them until she was sure...even my father-in-law. He wasn't allowed down the stairs the first time he came to visit.
Her coat was beautiful glossy black - so healthy and shiny it almost glowed. Her cinnamon bustle came and went with the semi-annual shedding. She had a wonderful smile that beamed with how much she loved our family. She was a food thief and never really forgot the years before she was ours when food was hard to come by. She was perfect and the example to which all future dogs will be compared and always found lacking.
Every single day for more than 11 years, Shelby greeted us at the door when we came home.
Over the years, her coat started to lose it's glossiness and her muzzle became less black and more silver. Her warm brown eyes lost their brightness and her smile came less often. It was harder and harder to get up the stairs to sleep under the window in our room...making sure carneys didn't come in. Eventually, she was carried up every night. Her back legs got weaker and weaker.
Then it happened, yesterday her back legs gave out. We knew she was in pain...her panting was rapid and shallow. She tried to stand but her body just wouldn't obey. We all knew it was time. She never liked riding in the car much, but her last ride was on her dad's lap in the convertible with the fresh air in her face. We stayed with her until the end.
We know it was the right thing to do, but we still second guess ourselves. Did she have another day? another week? or had we waited too long already and made her enure more pain than she needed to.
Our whole family is in mourning. Luke didn't know how to eat his breakfast. Shelby always got her kibbles first then he got his. He didn't know if he should start eating or not. Ruby started saying "Move, Shelby" and "Hey, Shelbers" lately...that's going to be rough.
Today will be the first time in more than 11 years that she won't be at the door when I get home. My sweet Shelby, our brown-eyed girl.
