Day 84

Tonight we said goodbye to our dear family dog, Rudy. He was 11 years old and the best dog I ever knew. He was a Brittany Spaniel with white and red hair (my family will only have red haired pets because we are all red haired weirdos). He had a stumpy little tail and when he was happy his whole butt wiggled. He had the fattest butt I ever saw on a dog. He was the wiggle pup, his whole body wiggled with joy.  He nearly died at Christmas 3 years ago and my dad spent the big money he'd saved for a fancy road bike on specialty vet care, tests, medicine. We thought we'd lose him then  and it was the first time I saw my dad cry since I was an adult. Tonight my dad sobbed on the phone. He couldn't even speak. My heart broke. For poor Rudy, whose history caught up with him as he grew lumps and bumps, struggled to breathe the last few months, and struggled to move this week. For my parents who love that dog way more than his brother Louie who is a bit of a jerk as dogs go, more than their two cats and just slightly more than Zucca the cat who we lost 2 years ago. They loved that he was always happy, never ran away, wandered cheerfully without a leash no matter where he went, that on hot days he slept in the same spot in the garden near the Virgin Mary statue in the yard. He always stayed by their side when they needed him the most. I haven't lived with Rudy in years but he knew me as family when I came, and wiggled right into my heart every time. Goodbye Rudy. You were the best.