Bailey is gone.

Back in March, we took in Bailey as a foster dog. He was 13 years old and too old to be adopted. We figured that he’d be lucky to last another year.

He was a pleasant, happy dog. He had a bit of a limp but was always anxious to go out for a walk. Because of his age, I’d only take him out for 100 yards or so. He’d still be pulling on the lease but his back legs would have a hard time holding him up.

When I got home from work, his nose would be one of three trying to get thru the door to greet me.

He had arthritis in his hips so he couldn’t sit easily. When we called the dogs for feeding, we would make the younger two sit. We wouldn’t make Bailey sit because he couldn’t. Bailey didn’t want to feel left out so he’d stand at attention behind the other two.

When we went to bed, Bailey would assume his post at the bottom of the stairs and we would give him a treat and pet him as we went by.

Recently, he started having difficulty breathing. When we took him to the vet a couple of weeks back, the vets were as much in denial as we were. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He just needs to catch his breath.”

Yesterday, we couldn’t deny it anymore. The only time that Bailey wasn’t gasping was when he was sleeping. We took Bailey back to the vet. Doctor Jackson let us know that Bailey was always going to struggle to breath and assured us that it was time for Bailey to go. This is what Bailey needed. After Bailey was gone, I was given Bailey’s collar and leash. I almost broke down then.

I miss him…
…when I come home and there are only 2 doggie noses trying to get thru the door.
…when I don’t see him standing at attention behind the other two.
…when I stop to pet him as I go upstairs.
…when I reach for the leashes and his isn’t there.