One good dog

A roll in the summer grass or snowplowing through a drift in the yard were some of Bravo's favorite indulgences. That, and loving Kevin and me.

We said goodbye to our Big Boy late last night.

Kevin and I haven’t stopped crying since.

Sadly, it was Bravo’s time to go. After years of seizures, thyroid problems, and failing hips, yesterday proved to be the day Bravo’s body fully failed him.

Last night, Kevin and I sat beside him in our bedroom, where he had collapsed with a seizure, tremors, and in pain. We talked to him about all the adventures we had together … Visiting Vail for bike races and dips in Gore Creek; tear-assing through New Mexico playing in some out-of-state snow; walking through the neighborhood and having people stop their cars, roll down the windows, and tell him how handsome he looked. The stories helped, I think.

When the emergency vet arrived at our home far past business hours, Bravo was quiet. He gently licked the vet’s hand as she felt his pulse and gave him a sedative.

He then drifted off to sleep. By our bed, his favorite spot in the house.

Bravo was one of the men I loved most deeply in this world. I always will.

His quirks and humor made me laugh every day. His devotion to Kevin and me was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

Whether he was smiling at me with his crooked-lipped, toothy grin or padding through the house to find Kevin, making sure the pack was complete, Bravo had a way of touching our hearts each day.

He was comical, mischievous, and had eyes that made the ladies swoon like Kevin.

He was stoic, enjoyed expensive gifts, and ate too much junk like me.

He was yellow, gentle, and still quick to roughhouse like Rio.

He was one good dog.