Soldier died Saturday night, he was around 13 years old. I noticed that his eyes had that different look a few days ago, and he wasn't quite right. But he ate well and walked without problems, so I hoped he would be OK again. But on Saturday, after a few hours of pain and restlessness, he laid down and died peacefully with his beloved daddy at his side.
Of all the dogs that lived with us during our 30 years together, Soldier was the toughest, the bravest, and the most courageous. My friends, you know his story. He was my inspiration to get up and get going every morning, no matter how I felt. His previous owners named him well, and that's the only good they did for him.
Soldier was a trooper who stole my heart. Soldier's heart, though, belonged to his daddy. He knew his daddy rescued him; and for the six years he lived with us, his daddy was his hero, and the greatest love of his life.
I am glad Soldier died without having to suffer any more vet visits, without lingering and feeling ill for a long time, or worse, a final vet visit to end his life. I worried about that a lot. Instead, he passed away peacefully, with his daddy petting him, and soothing him; that is what I wished for and that is how it came to be. For this am very grateful.
But Soldier, my boy, how I will miss your brave heart. You will always be my boy and mommy will always love you the mostest and the bestest. (That's how I used to talk to him, because he was my hero.)
But Soldier, my boy, how I will miss your brave heart. You will always be my boy and mommy will always love you the mostest and the bestest. (That's how I used to talk to him, because he was my hero.)
This is Soldier on the day I first met him in early fall 2007.
