We lost Boo Tuesday evening. She was the best dog we ever had.
She was a Valentine's present from Pat to me in 1995. That day in February we had gone to the Guilford County Animal Shelter because our home had been broken into and the police officer told us the best advice he could give was, "Get a dog." From the moment I saw her, I knew she was it. This cute little ball of black fur with a white chin sat smack in the middle of her kennel and looked up at me with smiling brown eyes and a wagging tail. We walked out that day with our "first baby" and learned very quickly that she loved listening to Gordon Lightfoot, hated squirrels, and had to always be touching either Pat or me.
She was the smartest dog I'd ever owned...housebroken in two weeks! Boo loved chasing a tennis ball and quickly evolved into an awesome frisbee catcher. She also loved going for car rides and went with us nearly everywhere.
When John was born, her feelings got hurt. But after a few weeks she must have realized that he wasn't going anywhere, so she may as well make the best of it. While she didn't exactly warm up to him, she became very protective and would make a low, menacing growl whenever anyone walked past the house. When John became mobile, Boo was the first thing he went for. Why not? She was a gigantic, living, breathing stuffed animal! He would crawl all over her and I never once heard her make the slightest sound of protest. When she'd had enough, she'd just get up and move to another place in the house.
In early October of this year, Boo was diagnosed with lymphoma. The vet gave us some prednisone to keep her comfortable and it really did seem to make Boo feel a lot better. Her appetite returned and she got playful again. But on Tuesday she couldn't even get up off the floor. When her breathing became labored, Pat rushed her to the vet. She died on the way.
Boo-girl, we will always love you as our "first baby." I hope you're chasing frisbees in heaven.
