Waking up to the silence is the first sign. It’s a silence that screams louder than any bark, any meow, any familiar pet sound that usually fills your home. For anyone who has ever cherished a pet, the gut-wrenching reality of their absence is a uniquely painful experience, one that words often fail to capture. Today, the usual baseball updates feel distant, because today is about Billy, my ‘a’s pet’, and the profound silence he has left behind.
This morning was like any other, until it wasn’t. I walked into the kitchen expecting to see Billy, our 13.5-year-old terrier mix, ready for his morning routine. Instead, I found him still, peacefully lying on the floor, but unmistakably gone. Just yesterday, he was vibrant and full of life, a joyful presence at Point Isabel, his tail wagging with unrestrained enthusiasm at every doggy greeting. He devoured his evening “chicky treat” with his usual gusto and settled into his dog bed for the night. A simple “goodnight, you’re a good dog,” and a kiss on his head were the last moments we shared knowingly.
Billy had been remarkably healthy for his age, the only real sign of time catching up was his fading hearing. And then there was the cough. It started a few months back – sudden, sharp bursts of coughing that would seize him for a few seconds, often ending in a dramatic hacking sound. But as quickly as it began, it would vanish, leaving him seemingly unfazed, ready to play or cuddle as if nothing had happened.
Naturally, we worried. Two inhalers and two different oral medications were tried, hoping to soothe whatever irritation was causing these episodes. Yet, the cough persisted. We lived with a constant undercurrent of concern, always balancing it with the overwhelming joy of his otherwise energetic, happy demeanor. He was still our frisky, alert, and loving Billy, cough or no cough.
It seems that last night, the cough came one last time, perhaps culminating in something far more serious – a sudden cardiac event. It’s comforting to imagine that he simply finished a coughing fit, collapsed, and passed instantly. The hope is that there was no suffering, no fear, just a peaceful transition from a happy life to a quiet end.
In a strange way, this sudden departure feels like the gentlest farewell I’ve experienced with a dog. Gino, our labrador-beagle mix from years ago (1979-1991), predates this blog but remains etched in my memory as perhaps the most extraordinary dog I’ve ever known, almost human in his understanding. But age took its toll, his hips failing him until one day, he simply couldn’t rise. His anxiety was palpable, and the heartbreaking decision for euthanasia was made in Tahoe. His makeshift grave there is a place I’ve revisited in quiet remembrance.
Then there was Poochini, a familiar name to long-time readers, who lived from 1996 to 2012. The first fourteen years were filled with joy, but the last two were clouded by a slow decline. We were slow to recognize the signs of advancing dementia. Towards the end, he would pace relentlessly in tight circles, driven by a confusion we couldn’t alleviate, until exhaustion forced him to collapse wherever he stood. Euthanasia, in his case, came regrettably late.
Billy’s story is different. He lived a full, vibrant life, right up to his last breath in the quiet of the night. He defied terrier stereotypes by loving to swim, and his affection was boundless, extending equally to dogs and humans, and perhaps even more so to beef and chicken.
One of his endearing quirks was his unwavering attachment to his first toy, a yellow, four-legged octopus we affectionately named “Quadrapussy.” Every other toy that came into his life met a swift end – squeakers eviscerated, plush bodies torn to shreds. But Quadrapussy remained untouched. He would play with it, carry it around, always with a strange tenderness, a silent understanding between dog and toy.
Just moments ago, we laid Billy to rest in his backyard, the yard he diligently patrolled each day, his loyal guardian duties now complete. Quadrapussy rests nestled under his chin, a silent companion for eternity. Billy was, quite simply, one of those dogs that charmed everyone he met. He had that irresistible quality, that spark that even won over a close friend who claimed to “not like dogs” but found himself inexplicably drawn to Billy’s gentle spirit.
If you are fortunate enough to have a beloved pet in your life, please give them an extra kiss on the head for me tonight. Appreciate every wagging tail, every purr, every moment of unconditional love they offer. And remember Billy, ‘a’s pet’, who taught us so much about joy, companionship, and the bittersweet beauty of saying goodbye.
