McCullers (Family of Four): Crossing Over

We drove up the driveway and were greeted by a fast little weenie dog who had a habit of greeting guests at the end of the paved driveway. It wasn't often that he was out already when we got there. But he was very ritualistic in doing the same thing each time. He would run down to greet, then race back up the hill to be waiting for you as soon as you opened the car door. So happy for us to be home.

CoCo thought this was his chair. He especially loved it when the sun was shining on it.

For some reason this day, he crossed over the driveway at some point. And symbolically at the exact moment he crossed over the driveway, he crossed over into heaven. I have no doubt that our beloved pets will be there. It took me only a moment to realize what the unfamiliar sound was. I made it to the top of the hill and into the garage before I glimpsed back to confirm the agony that had already formed in the pit of my stomach and in the entirety of my heart.

The Birthday Bean

I was motionless for a moment. I told Cam and Maeve to go straight in and get Daddy and to not look down the hill. He sensed my unusual request and immediately understood what had happened and started yelling and crying for his daddy. Maeve joined in and started wailing in distress. The mother bear took over me and I was able jump into action again to shew my grieving cubs into the house. Tony surveyed the tragic scene taking place in the kitchen. His first instinct was to shield and comfort his distraught family. Still being a bear, I ordered him to go make sure there was nothing he could do to help CoCo. In the meantime we shed our coats and ended up in a heap of tears on the sofa. Maeve tearfully said, "We are now a family of four." She always counted him as our fifth family member. Cam kept commenting, "It seems like it's not real." We just weren't ready for this to be the day we had to let him go.

A close-up of a lazy dog laying on Nonna's couch

Fourteen years he lived. That is the equivalent of 98 years old. Perhaps the reason animals don't physically last as long as we do is because of their pure love and faithfulness- something humans can only strive for. A ripe old age for a weenie who had endured a rough start in life with a family who wasn't the right fit for him. He survived two rounds of back trauma where the vet said he was in so much pain and speculated if he would ever feel better. And just last year he had to have his giant mole removed. I didn't have them send it off to the lab. I was certain it was cancerous. And even as his body aged and his brouncy steps turned into more of a waddle and his once shiny brown coat was a dull silver, still he was my wake up companion each morning, my ever-present kitchen helper, and the snorer that lulled me to sleep each night as he snoozed right beside my bed.

Ironically the one who loved him the most wound up being the one who ended his life. Me- why me? All the what ifs clouded my sorrow- what if I had come straight home and been the one to let him out of the house? What if I had stopped and let him inside the car? What if Tony would have let him in as soon as he had scratched on the door? My sweet friend who has a gift for finding the positive in all situations comforted me by telling me how nice it was for him to spend the last moments of his life happy as he was doing one of his favorite things- welcoming his favorites home. He did not have to live his life in pain and wait for disease to overtake his body. He did not have to see us making that agonizing choice of when to let him go. He did not put us through the stress of selling our house and having to acquaint an old dog to a new home. Thank you, Bean, for putting our needs above yours.

Hanging out with his best buddy, Snoot.

He really was like my firstborn. I loved him and will love him with every part of me. The "C" that adorned his colar had these words on the back: tried and true. No two words could describe him any better.