Yesterday I lost my beloved dog Bristol......Mommy loves you.

[Nevilledog]

November 5th started out as one of the happiest days I can remember in my life. It ended as one of the saddest.

I lost one of my best friends, my beloved dog Bristol. We think he was about 12. You see, we really don’t know because one snowy morning when I walked out on our back deck there was this little brown dog sitting there, somehow he got into our fenced backyard although we never figured out how. We had 3 other dogs at the time and were not looking for another dog. He was a quiet, friendly little guy and he instantly fell in love with Millie, our Springer Spaniel. We posted signs with pictures around our neighborhood, but nobody ever called. After a couple weeks a friend of mine wanted to adopt this little brown dog…he figured he’d be a great chick magnet. With a sad heart I watched Glenn take the little brown dog away.

Within a week the little brown dog was back. It seemed that the little brown dog didn’t want to be away from us and although we never saw any behavior issues in the initial time he spent with us he basically destroyed Glenn’s house and yard….including tearing up all the newly landscaped plants…LOL The little brown dog came home.

I gotta tell you, I wasn’t at all sad to have the little brown dog back. It seemed like fate…we decided it wasn’t a big deal to add one more furball to the family. So we needed to decide on a name. After much debate, we decided to name the little brown dog Bristol. Why? Well, we were big NASCAR fans and Bristol is a round short-track…and the little brown dog was short and round…viola! Bristol was his name-o!

The next twelve years with my little brown dog were never boring….lots of joy with bits of sadness thrown in. And lots of laughter….lots. I remember so clearly the year we packed all 4 dogs into the Cherokee and motored to Albuquerque to spend Christmas with my family. After a big dinner all of us ended up in the den overdosed on turkey. A short time later we heard a “thunk” from the kitchen and saw a shadowy figure run down the hallway dragging something. We went to investigate and there was Bristol with the WHOLE turkey carcass looking like he’d just won the lottery.

Many years passed, we lost our oldest dog Gibson to cancer. We were down to 3 furballs. Then, 3 years ago, Millie suddenly died from what the vets think was a tumor in her stomach that ruptured. She was sick for one day and she passed quietly in my arms. We were down to 2 furballs. Bristol and Neville.

The funny thing is, I never thought Neville would be our last furball. He’s an Old English Sheepdog and he’s going on 16. Neville is an oddity. I got him from the pound when he was 8 months old and I’m pretty sure the people who had him either gave him drugs or dropped him on his head….needless to say, he’s our special needs kid. Sweet as can be, but dumb as a box of rocks and not a mean bone in his body….but he’s old, and arthritic and as loved as any dog has ever been loved. But he’s not Bristol. Neville is in his own world…and it’s a happy world. After a hard day we often note that we’d like to spend a couple of days in Nevilleland because it seems like an awfully nice place to be.

Bristol, on the other hand, has always been attached to me…like static cling. For 12 years I’ve never walked 2 feet without Bristol next to me. Heck, I don’t think I’ve peed alone for 12 years….but that’s probably TMI. He was a lover…and he was loved in return.

Yesterday started off gloriously. After a peaceful night of sleep like I haven’t experienced for years I got up ready to enjoy a day off to celebrate Obama’s victory. The whole day was ordinary to the extreme. Reading DU, doing some laundry. Just a nice relaxing day. Then tragedy. About 4 p.m. I walked downstairs with Bristol at my side to hang up some laundry. Everything was fine. A moment later I heard a thump and walked into the den to see that Bristol was staggering. I picked him up so he didn’t stumble down the stairs into the den and he went limp. I had just gotten out of the shower and was in a robe so I immediately called my husband who works less than half a mile from home. “Come home…something’s wrong with Bristol.” Bristol was breathing, and looking at me…he was calm, not struggling, but I noticed that the pupil in one of his eyes was totally dilated and the other eye’s pupil was a mere pinprick. I called the vet and let them know we’d be there in a couple minutes and described what was happening. I laid Bristol’s head in my lap, caressed his face, kissed him and told him Mommy loved him….I loved him. Don’t be afraid little brown dog, Mommy loves you.

My husband gently lifted Bristol up and raced to the vet, 3 miles from our home. He stopped breathing in the car and the vet couldn’t revive him. My little brown dog was gone. The vet thinks it was a stroke or a brain aneurysm. It happened so fast.

Today is the first day without my little brown dog. Without my shadow. My heart hurts…it literally aches. I miss you, my little brown dog. Mommy loves you.