Oh Richard
Oh Richard. I sit here crying at my computer, your sister Petra sleeping behind, your brother, Paco, on the bed under the fern. I have found my brain racing from cold pragmatism to wailing anguish. Even though Kessiah and I have only had you two years, you have been the best of dogs. I would take every inconvenience, annoyance, and hardship to have you another year.
Richard’s smile brightening up the river
We’ve put you in your favorite bed, and, though you hated it with unbridled annoyance, the most lively blanket. You rest as if asleep, but I know through the compressions and breaths I shared with you that you are gone. I called your mom over because I thought you looked cute, resting on the cool pavement. You are always cute. She called me because you weren’t responding. We hope the end was easy for you, it wasn’t for us.
We went to Krabloonik to find a third dog. We meet several younger pups before they took us to the retirement paddock. I was about to give up on connecting with a dog when you walked between my legs and calmly asked for snuggles. I remember calling out to Kessiah, who had one of your sisters biting her hair at the time. You also cuddled calmly with her. When we left the pen, we asked Ethan, “who is the dark brown one.” He said, “oh that’s Richard,” and we laughed and laughed at the absurdity of being surrounded by hundreds of dogs named Ice Storm, Blizzard, and much more creative sled dog names and that you were Richard. Later that day, you jumped smiling into the back of a car with two dogs you didn’t know and two millennials you didn’t know with the biggest smile on your face.
It wasn’t easy, teaching you that the inside wasn’t for peeing and that your food was for eating. I’m going to always remember you as the easiest dog I have ever added to my life. You were happy to just be, to be with your people. Giving you a family that was yours and (almost) only yours has been a joy.
Walking on a leash took a bit, it was hard for you to understand that you weren’t pulling us along, and you would get confused if a sidewalk ended and you would zigzag back and forth until you found it on the other side of the street. The first time we walked by the basketball court really perked your interest. You were so excited, chittering at the kids and teens playing that we bought you your own ball the next day. I don’t think you ever made a shot, but you definitely won our hearts.
I have a picture of you and Paco running on the frozen branch of the Colorado River, grinning like mad men. Old mad men with four legs, but it’s one of my favorite pictures.
Kessiah and I fought over your snuggles and bragged when you jumped up next to us. But you preferred your own couch. A good thing for a dog who spent 12 years living outside to get to have.
You made her the happiest woman ever when you snuggled with her in the camping van that night on Grand Mesa. I setup my home office space and DnD playing area so that you could be on a couch next to me. I even have a pillow that says “Reserved for Dog.”
Oh Richard, we were always happy with you. We miss you. Thank you for sharing those two years with us.
