Big Daddy Thinks

My little buddy Miles (one of Kristin’s dogs) is keeping me company this weekend. He’s been a total turd to one of her foster dogs so she let me have him for the weekend. Since I already know him, he’s on the approved list of dogs that I can have around me right now. I took him for a walk, the first time on that route since Ruby died. I’m starting to come to terms with her loss but it’s the little things that still trip me up. For instance, Ruby was curb trained; Miles looked really put out at the first curb when I stopped and he didn’t.

I had to cut the walk short. First it was getting dark and I walk like a zombie in the dark because of the Meniere’s. Second, “Be Bop a Lula” came on my Droid and I started to tear up. I used to change the lyrics of songs for Ruby and that song was one of my favorites. It went, “Be Boog a Lula/she’s my baby/Be Boog a Lula/I don’t mean maybe/Be Boog a Lula/ she-he-he’s my baby now”.

I was trying to remember all the songs I butchered for her. I used “My Girl” a lot, changing the words to “My Boog”, going really high on the Boog part. I could wake her up out of a sound sleep with that one. The Slyvester’s “Boogie Fever” was low hanging fruit. Before I moved to Phoenix, my former roommate Amy changed the words to Justin Timberlake’s “Seniorita” when Ruby had her eye surgery.  “Boogalita, I feel for you/you have one good eye/you used to have two.” Then there were the endless iterations of Ruby-doo. “Ruby Duby Doo/I love you/you are my little puppy”. Stephanie at Tails Are Wagging, her doggie day care in Malden, started calling her Ruby-doo when I used to take her there and it stuck.  Or I’d walk around sing-songing her name over and over without taking a breathe. She loved that one.

That’s all I can remember at the moment.

I picked up my Boog today. This past two weeks were hard. The past few days I’ve been extremely angry. I miss her accutely and wish I could have her back. I want the 2-5 extra years I got gyped out of. Not logical but there it is. Strangely, picking up her remains makes me feel calmer.  None of this is logical I know.

The box she’s in is surprisingly nice, wooden with flowers carved in the top.

I was expecting the cheap platic brick DOG is in. But that’s OK because he was always meant to be spread around. He was loved by and lived with so many different family members. Before I saw how nice this box is, I looked up a few Etsy shops for pet funerary. There is one store that will turn a photo into a ceramic urn. I thought I might send a picture of Ruby in her fez. That’s my favorite image of her. My second favorit is in the frame next to her ashes. Blue Bear is in there, too, by the way. The picture is from when she was still a puppy. I took her with me to Lake Winnipesaukee. We got a great over-the-shoulder picture of her sitting next to person who was not fond of dogs. That was my Boog, an embassador of love.

I can’t bring myself to write more than the sad fact that I lost my Boog yesterday. The underlying cause of all her recent infections was a giant tumor compressing her trachea that was suffocating her slowly.

I will memorialize her later. Right now I’m just sad and grief-stunned. I miss her and can’t quite take in the fact that she’s gone.

My dog has swollen lymph nodes. We’re waiting on tests from the aspirated lymph node. Dr. Penn also took blood for tests. Could be a swollen salivary gland, could be lymphoma, could be something else completely. 

At least she’s not brachycephalic which means her insurance should cover this. The last few days her breathing has become so constricted she doesn’t want to eat. Here is me proving how much I love this dog. I fed her an entire jar of baby food, with my fingers.