DallasCowpoke
500+ Posts
I had a friend named Gus. Gus became my friend when he was about five months old and spent the next 15 years brightening the lives of those around him. No one who met him, didn't like him or ever forgot him. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like my friend Gus.
Gus grew up in a neighborhood with an abundance of kids of varying ages. Almost all became Gus’s friend too within the first few encounters of him. Honestly, I believe Gus thought he was one of them. He knew where they all lived. When we'd walk by one of his friend's houses, his attention was riveted. If he heard them playing in the backyard, he wasn't going any further until he made a mad dash back there to say hello and hopefully get in a quick game of tag or better still, tug-of-war.
There are several schools in Gus’s neighborhood, most with a large park attached and he'd usually pick a different one to visit on every walk.
Early one spring afternoon, Gus and I were at what probably was his favorite, because of the jogging/biking path that passed within close proximity of the playground and baseball diamond used by the school kids.
It was a warm afternoon and after making the half mile walk to the park, plus two or three trips around the perimeter via the jogging trail, Gus and I decided to stop and rest on the bleachers behind the diamond. There are several large shade trees plus a water fountain, so this was a common occurrence. After getting Gus some water and wetting down his head, I let him off the leash so he could wander freely around the diamond, looking for any undiscovered badgers or other vermin that needed eradicating.
A class of third or fourth graders came out of the side door of the school after about 10 or 15 minutes and made their way to the shaded area directly behind the bleachers where I was lounging. I recognized their teacher, or more likely, she recognized Gus, as she waved and said hello. They were having a pizza party and all settled into a loose circle on the grass as the pizza boxes were opened and slices distributed among the kids.
I turned my attention to Gus who was on the opposite side of the fence, somewhere around first base. He quickly noticed the group, and never one to be antisocial, made a beeline around the dugout fence, directly into the middle of the party. I hopped off the top level of the bleachers and headed towards the group, apologizing to the teacher as I walked towards them, for the interruption.
Gus was a well behaved guest and as badly as I know he wanted to snatch a piece of pizza from one of the open boxes, he simply sat in the middle of the group as they squealed their excitement over this interloper. Some of them inched forward to pet him and one of them inquired whether it would be all right if he had a piece of pizza crust from one of the boxes. I told him it would be okay and he should call Gus to him, tell him to sit and then offer him the crust. I assured the teacher that everything would be okay, the last thing Gus would do was bite.
This opened the floodgates and Gus was quickly surrounded by eight or ten kids, each offering up pizza slices of varying sizes. One of the kids decided that he couldn't wait his turn, so he reached down and took the pizza Gus was working on at the moment out of his mouth so he could feed him his. I could see the look of panic on the teacher's face, as I'm sure she thought this was going to be a disaster. But Gus being Gus, he simply sat patiently, tail wagging, as he sampled from the all-you-can-eat buffet he'd happily found himself in.
Gus’s health had been deteriorating significantly over the past year. For a dachshund, he'd had very little of the back problems that are common with the breed, although he suffered with periodic problems from a compressed disk in the lowest part of his back just above his tail. This really wasn't a debilitating problem, but it had become a little more frequent the past few years. A trip to the vet and a day or so of rest and he was pretty much back to normal.
About eight months ago, I woke to find Gus in the middle of the den floor, not willing or able to get to the back door for his usual morning potty-break. I took him to the vet and after x-rays and an overnight stay for observation, it was confirmed that the problematic vertebrae were deteriorating and I needed to prepare myself that the next incident might be the one that forces a decision to be made that I'd been dreading. Happily, Gus seemed to respond favorably to cortisone treatments and a round of painkillers and within a week was back to his old active self.
Yesterday, I woke to find Gus with very labored breathing, barely able to walk more than two or three steps before having to lay down and rest. I got him out into the backyard, to the usual spot that he and his buddy Goober use for morning potty, but all he would do was sit there unable to do much more than pant as if unable to catch his breath completely. He didn't appear to be in any pain or significant distress other than the labored breathing. This wasn't like his earlier problems with the back, as he was walking normally, just unsteadily and slow. Eventually, he made his way back inside and onto one of the two dog pillows in front of the hearth, where he and Goober slept.
I attempted to get him water and a bite of scrambled egg but he would take none. I made a small corral-like pin around his pillow to confine him and keep him from wandering unnecessarily.
Over the next few hours, his condition improved occasionally and he appeared to sleep sporadically. Every hour or so he would wake and attempt to stand but the labored breathing quickly returned and he resigned himself back to sleep.
During these times that he was awake I sat with him, stroking him gently and trying to keep his mouth wet using a soft dishtowel. He never would even attempt to take water, even off my fingers. He'd only turned his head away showing no interest.
About 4:30, he woke again, this time for 10 or 15 minutes. I sat with him and was able to get him to take just a few drops of water off my fingers, although I'm not sure he was doing more than just licking me.
Around 5:00, he positioned himself where his head was resting on my upper thigh and made eye contact with me as I softly sang to him the silly little cadence song I'd sing to him when we'd go for long training walks when he was a puppy. I assured him I loved him, and it was okay for him to go.
I put my friend Gus on the burnt orange dog pillow with the big white longhorn on it, that his friend’s Jeff and Jillian had given him last Christmas and wrapped him in a sheet.
I picked a few blue, yellow and gold flowers off the hanging basket I’d intended to take to my mom’s yesterday and taped them to the top of the box that I put my friend Gus in.
I took my friend Gus to our property outside McKinney this morning and buried him next to some of the other family dogs resting there.
Gus’s friend Goober and I will miss him deeply.
