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I just found this thread, and I need someplace to put my thoughts today. I lost my boy Rocket last night, and I'm devastated.  II was very luck to find him. I wanted a dog for years and years but didn't have the money or space for one. When I finally got a good job and moved into a place in Seattle that allowed dogs I went looking for one. I started with the local shelters, thing is that in Seattle it's really hard to adopt a shelter dog because everyone wants to, I spent weeks and weeks going to the shelters and they were always empty or just had dogs I couldn't have at my place. I talked to local rescues and they were only interested in sending dogs to homes with families and houses, so single apartment dwellers like me were out of luck I couldn't afford a dog from a legitimate breeder, so I was about to give up on my quest when I looked in the local classifieds and found an ad for a litter of "Black Golden Retrievers" with a photo of a half dozen little fluffy black puppies. I put down a deposit right away and waited almost a month before they were old enough to take home. I talked to the breeder, he had been a champion Golden Retriever breeder for decades, and decided he wanted to try something new. He heard about Flat Coat Retrievers and found a pure bred mating pair. Before he could get a litter though the male got sick and died. So he had this female Flat Coat, but no male to breed her with, so he started breeding her with his goldens, after a couple generations he had black golden retrievers and since they're not a recognized pedigreed breed he had to sell them at an affordable price. I had second pick of the litter and the family that came right before me had two little kids that ran the puppies around and got them all exhausted, so when I got there they were all asleep. I picked him more or less at random and took him home. I named him Rocket after Rocket Racoon, because GoTG is one of my favorite movies and I realized that when he got old, and his muzzle turned grey he would look like Rocket Racoon. The first month I had him, i got no sleep because his kennel wouldn't fit in my room and if I left him alone at night he would cry, so I'd lay on the living room floor next to his kennel and try unsuccessfully to sleep. He was an absolute terror as a puppy because he put his mouth on everything, he didn't have a strong bite, but he had needle sharp teeth that easily broke the skin if he put his mouth around your hand. I've always wanted a dog that would catch a frisbee, and I assumed that would be second nature to a golden retriever, but Rocket not only couldn't catch anything, even if you threw it directly into his mouth, he was terrible at fetching. He liked to chase anything you threw, but instead of bringing it back he would just run off someplace and chew on it. No amounts of rewards would get him to return things you threw for him. When I moved to Hollywood for a new job, I had to leave him with friends for a month while my new apartment was getting finished. It was the longest we ever been apart. When I picked him up at the airport a crowd gathered to watch him because he was so excited to see me. Our apartment was small but he didn't mind, he liked to sleep in the walk-in shower, I think he preferred the cool tile floor and the den-like space. I would drive around town with him in the front seat of my car, he like to hang his head out the window people often pulled up alongside us just to talk to him. I took him to work with me every couple weeks, it was a lot of work keeping him under control but everyone loved having him around the office. He loved everyone and he loved going anyplace, especially the vet, he got sick once, vomiting and diarrhea all over the place. I called the vet and the said to bring him in. When I got there he couldn't control his excitement, and the nurse said "he doesn't look sick." I told her that's because he loved the vet. they said they'd "keep him for observation" a couple hours later they called me and said "oh yeah he's sick all right." When Covid happened I stopped going to the office, it meant we had a lot more time together but it also meant he didn't get to see anyone other than me. Since I was working from home more or less permanently I bought a house out in the suburbs, one with a nice small yard that he could run around in. I would often find him sitting on the patio just gazing out into the yard like it was his domain. He acted like a big doofus but he was wicked smart, he knew what he could get away with. He was quiet and almost never barked except when the doorbell rang because he thought that meant somebody was coming to see him. One day the doorbell rang and he started barking so I went and answered it, it was my neighbor and he asked if my dog was out. I turn around and said "nope he's right here" and he said, "Well there's a dog that looks just like him over on the side of your house". So I went outside to investigate and found that the side gate to the backyard had blown open just enough for Rocket to get out and I realized what he had done. He got out the gate and was running around the neighborhood playing with some kids, and when he saw somebody coming to tell on him he quickly ran back through the gate, in the back door and then barked at the doorbell like he'd been there the whole time. Unlike most dogs he chose when he wanted to respond to commands. If I told him to sit, he would think about it for a moment and I often had to ask him "What did I just say?" before he would actually sit down. His favorite treat was popcorn, he would sit next to me on the couch while I watched movies and each time I took a handful of popcorn for myself, I would throw one kernet to him, he almost never caught them, but he was really good at hunting them down on the floor or in the crevices of the couch. I don't know if he loved popcorn for the taste or just that it was something I shared with him. He always tried to lead the way when I walked from room to room, I had this conversation with him every single day day. "You're in my way" "You're still in my way" "Why are you always in my way?" "It's Ok, I still love you" "I love you very much buddy" If somebody were listening to me from outside they would think I was crazy, but I don't care I wanted to make sure he knew how much I loved him. Last week I went out of town, I had to put him up in a pet hotel, he loved it there, so many other dogs to play with him, and nice attendants to pay attention to him. My return flight was delayed and I had to pick him up late on Monday night, he was happy and excited to see me and was super happy to get home. I gave him some food and gobbled it up before going outside (his usual routine) I sat down to watch TV and after a bit realized he hadn't come back inside. I went out and called him, it was dark but he ran back into the house but instead of joining me on the couch he crawled under the dining room table and wouldn't come out. He started grunting and rolling around on the floor. I finally enticed him out to sit on the couch and a huge stream of drool was flowing from his mouth, I assumed he had just eaten something in the backyard that didn't agree with him (he would eat anything he could find) but after an hour he was still crying and becoming lethargic. it was late and so I called a 24 hour emergency vet clinic and they said I should bring him in, I took him in, and waited with him for our turn. When the nurse saw him he noticed his belly was swollen and then rushed him for x-rays. A doctor came back and told me his stomach was twisted, I'd heard about that in dogs, and knew it could be fatal. I was suddenly in panic mode. They did some more tests and x-rays and determined that his stomach was badly twisted and that the only way to save him was through surgery, I handed them my credit card and said "Please fix my best friend". They said it would be four or five hours before they knew if it was a success, and suggested I go home. Three hours later at home the doctor called me and explained that his internal organs were too badly damaged to recover, that if they completed the surgery the best he could hope for was a short and painful life. I made the decision to let him go, he was still unconscious for the surgery and I didn't want him to suffer anymore. So I went back and sat with him while they administered the injection to put him down. I was there at the end, but he had no way of knowing that. I loved him so much, I hope he understood that. He was only 6 years old, he was taken so early, I wanted him to be with me forever. He was the best dog there ever was or ever will be, I don't know what I'm going to do without him.  The day after I got him he went on his first trip to the vet and gave me the littlest ahwoo.  He quickly grew out of his tiny red harness, i had to replace them several times. He was 10lbs when I got him and 80lbs the last time he went to the vet.  He graduated from obedience school, but I think he might have skated on his good looks.  This is where he laid down on the couch while I was at work, he would be laying like this facing the door when I came home every day.  He was such a pretty dog, people would stop me on the street to tell me how pretty he was.  He was always happy and loved every single person he ever met.  I took him to work with me regularly, everyone loved having him there even though I didn't get much work done on those days.  He loved laying on his back on the couch next to me while I watched TV.  Every morning after I took a shower he would lay in the hallways and try to convince me to stay home from work. Even after I started working from home full time he continued to do this every morning.  He was a retriever with a waterproof coat, and he was raised in Seattle. so he never cared about the rain in California.  This was one of the last pictures I took of him, he was reminding me that it was time for his mid-morning chew-stick. I have lots more pictures, but not nearly enough, his coat was so black that cameras had a hard time focusing on him, and they often come out overexposed. I thought I would have so much more time to take more pictures.
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Apr 12, 2023 00:42
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| # ¿ May 9, 2024 01:05 |
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The thing I regularly regret, is not taking more photos of my boy.
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Mar 12, 2024 05:37
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