On Thursday evening, my beloved golden retriever, Midas, died. I knew to expect this, as he was fourteen years old, but it still came as a horrible, gut-wrenching, dazing shock. Then came the tears, which are only now beginning to abate. Many of you have been through this, and so have I years ago. No matter how old our poochies and pooties are, no matter what a sweet life they've lived, nothing can prepare us for their ultimate departing.
Midas would have turned fifteen on June 29. Other than some hearing loss and mild arthritis, he was not ill. He ate his dinner on Thursday, came to me for his usual after dinner hug, then lay down for his early evening nap. He just didn't wake up. He spared us the difficult decisions whether to undergo an expensive surgery, or whether, due to multiple health problems, to "put him down." He was that kind of dog - considerate, generous, and gracious.
Below, I have posted a few pictures of Midas. As many of you know, I became disabled in early 2008 due to serious injuries in an accident. I wasn't able to retrieve (excuse the pun) most of the pictures I cherish, but I have a few to share.
Midas was regal, proud, funny, smart, forgiving, loyal, consistent, happy, friendly to a fault (see coyote anecdote below), and always playful.
We adopted Midas when he was just six weeks old, in August 1994. My son was in second grade and my daughter was entering Kindergarten. The perspective, to me, is shocking because now both kids are grown and out of the house (well, most of the time.) At the beginning, I was still going through my miserable divorce. When the kids would leave to go with their dad, Midas salvaged me from inconsolable grief. He has been my only constant through all these years. He never argued, never sulked, and nuzzled up always closer when I was upset. (Oops, I just had to change that sentence to the past tense - really difficult.)
Before my injury, when I had money, I had a beach house in Mexico, south of Rosarito Beach. It was great for the kids growing up, but I think it was Midas who enjoyed it most. Each Friday, as soon as I said the word "Mexico", Midas would jump in the SUV, smiling (yes, he really did smile) and wagging his tail as I packed the car for the weekend. He smelled the ocean as we got close, and as soon as the door opened, he bounded down to the beach and we followed. There was a community clubhouse there, with a pool. Midas, a true water dog, liked to jump in the pool. We would hear rancor from the clubhouse employees, but it was hard to get him out once he jumped in. One day we arrived at the pool to find a huge NO DOGS sign posted. Somewhere, I have a picture of the sign with Midas happily swimming behind it. Here is a picture of Midas and me in Mexico. Midas is at his happiest self, just having emerged from a long ocean swim.
Midas was the friend of all humans and creatures. He loved all other dogs, and pooties also. One summer evening, all the neighbors and I were out front with our pooches, letting them run around the street in the cool summer dusk. At dark, everyone called their dogs in. When I called Midas, he was in the process of making friends with another "dog": one with yellow eyes. It was a coyote trying to lure my trusting baby into its pack. Midas knew by my rare tone of voice that he'd better not take that offer!
Midas was a dog who would generally lead thieves to the jewels (if there were any.) But once, he showed lifesaving protection. The kids and I were hiking up a local hill on a trail. Suddenly, docile Midas planted himself in front of us, walking back and forth with his tail raised and the hair on his back up, barking loudly. We joked about it, then looked behind him and saw a six-foot rattlesnake rattling its tail. Then we shakily said, "Good job, Midee."
Midas was really popular with everyone who ever met him. He had this special personality that drew young and old, poochies and pooties. He was not a barker, but he and the neighbor dog exchanged greetings each morning when they first went outside. Especially since my disability, a group of adolescent neighbor girls came over every single day to take him for a walk. I had to tell them the news yesterday and they were devastated. He was a stage dog- he played Annie's dog in my daughter's high school play, "Annie." My neighbor's elderly father lives with her and he often asks(ed) for Midas to come over and visit him. Midas curled up often with my son's girlfriend's calico cat, and it seemed they were in love.
Here are a couple of recent pics of Midas, taken just a few days ago. He is the furriest dog I've ever seen. The hair, when I brushed him, was enough to cover a small dog. He developed a benign growth on his eye recently, which the vet didn't want to remove because of the anesthetic and Midas' age. You can see his white stately face, as he aged proudly and wisely.
I have already received tons of hugs and good wishes for my loss. More are welcome, but I think what Midas would really like is for you to share some memories and pics of your poochies and pooties, deceased or alive. I know Midas is already frolicking with NCrissieB's dearly departed Woofie the Elder, in the doggie hereafter. Perhaps Midas can continue his playful ways with some of your beloved departed pets too.
Love,
kktlaw
UPDATE: Wow, the Rec List. I'm sure Midas would enjoy all that attention!