Lukas

 

Oh my boy, my sweet, sweet boy.  

I found this unpublished when I came here today.  He died on July 31, 2020 and I swear that it is as  painful today as it was then.  It is honestly better that his sister is with him; he was always lost wihout her.  But sitting here with my feelings today, I started to think of him and his toys, almost an outline for a children's book.  I thought of him full of life, teaching love and trust.  Those dogs were so much more than they seemed. We were so blessed to have them in our lives.  I just to share this little thought that I wrote back then.

You were the most loyal little guy that ever lived and you must never think that you were any less loved than your sister.  You were our playful guy, the one who knew the name of every toy that had ever come your way.  Your most beloved Foxy was with you for playtimes up until the day you died, you, hardly able to walk, standing behind that toy, asking me to throw it for you.  I am so honored that you spent your last two weeks wanting to be safe in your pouch, or on a lap, sleeping the day and night through, always touching us, trusting us.  I carry you with me in my heart, caring for your sister who will join you soon, being the pure, joyul spirits that you always have been, no longer trapped in these old limited bodies.  

When I look up at the stars, I know that you are there somewhere, chasing falling stars, maybe, and watching over us the way you always have.  Thank you for loving us.  We will never, ever forget you; we will never stop loving you.

Finnegan Chases the Light

 

He was only ours for about 10 days.  I took about 100 pictures, took him to the vet, bought toys and clothes and walked him religiously.  And then he couldn't be ours anymore.  We weren't ready.  It wasn't the right time.  I loved him almost immediately.  He was almost perfect...and then he wasn't, and he had to leave.  It kind of broke my heart again.  

This is what I wrote about him that 1st week:

He came to us as Finn.  He immediately became Finnegan Waddington McMaster.  This is the first moment he came into his new house, wearing his new Hufflepuff hoodie.

We weren't ready.  

I still carry the loss of Lukas and Zuza like a carefully bandaged wound.  Most of the time, the bleeding is controlled and the pain muted, and then something rips off the Band-Aid and I feel like I am hemorrhaging grief.  Carolyn, too, is struck with days when the grief simply will not let her go.  Yet, for both of us, there are mostly good days, where we remember the incredible joy that our babies brought us.

We weren't ready.

It's 1 degree out today.  Real dogs need to be walked.  My hands won't close to a fist.

He was a lover, had some really odd quirks that were funny and incredibly cute.  He was obsessed with light--like the reflection from a watch that moved around, or a laser pointer, and he pounced on them like a cat!  It was adorable!  Zuza and Lukas did the same thing with the laser, but they were a third of the size of our smallest cat.  It looked different on them.  We have a projector that puts dots on the  living room ceiling which are sometimes still, and at other times, move.  He would sit, staring, transfixed by these mysterious, untouchable bits of light.  

And he had a flaw that, as Not Really a Dog Person, I didn't recognize in time, didn't know how to fix, and frankly, scared the crap out of me.  If Carolyn wouldn't have been preparing for a total shoulder replacement which would knock her out of being able to train him, it might have worked, but she was.  She was in constant pain.  He was 30 freaking pounds and pulled like a Malamute.  And he bit me twice, Carolyn once, and failed in his last attempt when he lunged for my face but, miraculously, I leapt back in time.  He did resource guarding, which I get, but I had no idea what he was guarding.  It turned out sometimes to be bags of recycling that weren't immediately near him, but in the same small area, and I just couldn't read the signs in time.

After that, every time he pressed forward to express his undying love by licking my whole face, including my eyes, which was often, I flinched and leaned back.   He was a light chaser, something I need in my life to keep the darkness at bay, but I couldn't let him in anymore.

I wasn't fixable.  And I wept when I let him go.  

He lives with someone who loves him and can train him out of that behavior, and I am so happy that he is loved as much as he deserves.  He has a job visiting people in a nursing home.

I miss him.