For our first anniversary, Mickey, Carly and I drove around to several places looking for just the right dog. This was to be my gift to Mickey, who had always had a dog in house. We ended up at a rescue in Harrison County called H.E.A.R.T. and there we found Roscoe (who was called Frisco...but hey...we were taking him to Pekin... Roscoe suited him better!)
When we got him home, we found he wasn't exactly perfect... first of all... he shed something terrible... probably because he looked like he had some husky in him. Secondly... he could get a definite odor... probably due to some beagle influence... and lastly... he had been abused, so he was really prone to submissive urination... so I have to admit that it took me roughly 6 months to get to the point where I liked this dog. Once we managed to get past the urination problems he was okay.. the other stuff I could deal with.
Over the past eight years, Roscoe has been a good little dog... over the course of the years he had earned his placed at the foot of our bed when Mickey worked late... and when Mick was working down south after Katrina... I even let Roscoe spend entire nights laying at my feet. He always shared Mickey's cereal with him in the mornings... getting the last bite... and the last bite of pizza as well... He shared popcorn with both Carly and I, always sitting patiently at our feet, ears perked up, waiting for the toss. Just this past summer we noticed that when he ran around the yard chasing our beagle Sadie, he was getting a little winded... not making nearly as many passes as he had the year before. He was beginning to get old.
On Friday, February 8th, our neighbor came to the door to let us know that Roscoe had been hit and was laying at the side of the road. A trip to the vet revealed that he had broken both hips... and it wasn't going to be easy on him. We began to give him medication for pain, and then medication to reduce the swelling around his nerves... and over the course of the home care, there was no marked improvement in his paralysis. This past Saturday, Roscoe made his final trip to the vet. As Mickey and I stood by his side, he slide off into a peaceful slumber, and I know that at the very moment that occurred, God was watching over our little friend.
It has been a tough weekend for us all, and saying good-bye to a member of the family is never easy... even when that member has four feet and tons of fur. Yesterday, as we sat around the house after church, Mickey commented that he looked up and thought for just a moment he saw Roscoe curled up in a familiar spot. I told him that while I cooked supper, I dropped something on the floor and nearly called, "Clean up"... which was Roscoe's cue to come and inspect what morsel might be on the floor. It will take awhile to adjust to his absence, but I am so thankful that we had this little guy in our lives.
And it has made us both look at life as a little more fragile... if one can feel this way about a dog, how much more will we feel about our family?
So good-bye our little friend... you won't be forgotten... and this spring... I'll be planting some flowers to mark your resting place... something that will remind us of you as long as we live here. You were a good boy... and you are missed.