
Today we had to say goodbye to our sweet, wonderful Bou. We knew this day was coming, but it really did not make it any easier. A few months ago she was suddenly just out of it; not moving much, staring off into space, and it seemed like something was wrong with the left side of her. A visit with our vet confirmed that it was most likely a stroke or some other neurological issue. We knew then it would just be making her comfortable. Some medicine actually turned her into a new dog, and for weeks we were so thankful to have our vibrant, happy dog back. But a few weeks ago, the medicine seemed to not have as much effect, and this week she could hardly walk, would stumble and was unable to go up or down stairs. It was time, and it was so very hard, but this wasn't our Bou and it was not a good life for her.
In Boxer years, she lived a phenomenal life. 10 years! Almost unprecedented for the breed. When Kevin and I went to the breeders house years ago, we knew we loved this dog seconds after we met her. She was so FULL of life -- a little too full, as we were the "this is what you don't want your dog to do" example in puppy class. (A class we dropped out of shortly after that). She was hyper. I thought she would never calm down. But she was such a happy, happy, dog. Loved people, loved to run. We used to take her to the dog park and just let her off the leash on the field and she was so beautiful speeding around. She came from a champion background, and we like to say that she knew this. She would let you know if she was beneath certain things.Bou loved a walk, and when she was healthier she loved going out on one. Back in the day, when it was just Bou & I, I'd take her out twice a day. Anytime you grabbed her leash she'd snap up from a dead sleep and be ready to go.
When Irbe came and the kids after that, you couldn't ask for more. She never once snapped, never growled, never showed a hint of any kind of frustration. And when Irbe was gone, she was still the same good girl. She loved the mountains. The last few times we went she acted 5 years younger. Loved to sniff around and lay in the cool air.
It is oddly quiet around the house now. When Irbe died, we still had all the dog sounds (and smells...) and now I catch myself almost every day looking outside for her on the back deck, waiting to come in. I panic when I've been out running errands and think I need to get back and let her out. I still expect her to be laying in the family room when we walk in from the garage. Kevin and I are dog people. We get attached to our dogs, and someday we'll have a (big) dog again. No matter what, though, Bou - our first dog - will hold a very special place in our hearts.