I went on Instagram this morning and discovered a post from Grace (@alightinglightly), the wonderful artist who painted a watercolor of our Scout.
I gasped.
This is our first baby, Winston. I don’t have many photos of him on the blog because he died not long after we moved from San Diego – a year or two – and I didn’t have a digital camera. In fact, this photo was taken in our home in San Diego. Winston had a big ball that he carried from room to room. I have several photos of him holding it in his mouth. It was his favorite thing. At the time I took this picture, he had jumped up on the sofa (the same one we now have in the den). His front legs were on a big throw pillow and he was holding his beloved ball.
When we moved into our rental house in San Diego, we knew we wanted to get a dog. Once Don fixed a gap in the fence, we went to the San Diego Humane Society. Winston was the first dog we saw. He was 18 months old and was trembling in his cage. His owners gave him up because of ‘allergies.’ I can only imagine how bewildered he was and how frightened. We kept going and looked at lots of other dogs, but we kept going back to Winston. We couldn’t bear the fact that he was so scared. So we asked if we could have some time with him. We talked to him and petted him and played with him. Meanwhile, I put my handbag on the ground. Shortly thereafter, I saw Winston lift his leg and pee into my bag. I was stunned at first, and then I started laughing.
I quickly realized he was marking us. We made arrangements to adopt him. Before we could take him home, he would have to have a couple of shots and a fecal sample sent to the lab. We waited two days. According the the SDHS, he wouldn’t poop. We were so anxious to get him home with us that we said we’d take him home sans fecal sample. After we picked him up and parked the car in the garage, we brought him into our back yard. He promptly pooped.
See? He was marking us and our yard. He was home.
We loved him like crazy. He loved to run. We took him to the dog park and to Dog Beach. He loved the water. He was affectionate and sweet. He was so dear.
Eventually, after a few years, we realized he needed a pal and we adopted Scout. When it came time to move East, I drove our CR-V across the country with the dogs riding shotgun. The first night in our rental cottage, we took the dogs outside and let them off leash. They ran and ran while the light from fireflies flickered throughout the yard. It was magical.
A couple of years later, Winston jumped off the sofa and cried out in pain. His tail went down and stayed down. We took him to the Vet, where it was discovered that he had a tumor on his heart. The outlook was dire. They could keep him alive for maybe six months if they drained the fluid periodically. We were all set to do that because we weren’t ready to say goodbye. But he quickly declined over the weekend. We took turns sleeping downstairs with him. As soon as we could get him into the vets that Monday, we did. They had him on the highest dose of painkillers and he was still in pain. We knew it was time to say goodbye. All this happened over about 5 days.
He was only 8 years old.
On the day we said goodbye to him, we came back home to Scout. She was lying on the floor by the sofa. She didn’t get up. She just looked at us with her wise and sad eyes.
She knew.
All these years later, I cry when I write this remembrance. He was our first baby and he was taken from us much too soon.
Shanna did a portrait of Winston with his ball, also. A different photo, a different position. I also have a photo of him somewhere, standing on our porch, ball in his mouth. He loved Scoutie. She loved him.
Thank you, Grace. Our hearts are full this morning.
Happy Wednesday.
I am so happy Winston had you two for the rest of his life! He was so fortunate. And now he, Scout and Riley are romping together in heaven. My ex-DIL just have me a mug that shows our dogs and her two dogs (which we watched a lot) sitting on the end of a pier looking out at the water. They all have angel wings. I keep it on my kitchen table and I always look at it. It reminds me that they are all waiting for us.
I hope they’re all playing together, waiting for us to see them again one day.
Oh, Grace has done it again—just beautiful. 💕
Blessed by you and Grace – your loving portraits of our babies are beautiful.
I thought I’d check in early, as I have a busy day. And now I find myself sobbing….your words have touched my heart. What memories you must have of both Winston and Scout. I hope you both find comfort in them today! ;)
And Riley, too! All of our babies had their distinct personalities and we loved them so.
Oh yes…forgive me! ;) xo
xoxo
Beautiful mementos of your babies. How awesome to have such loving treasures created specially for you.
I’m truly blessed, Eve.
now you have made me cry. It was good he found a loving place before he went. Reminds me of a three cats of ours.
He was loved and adored.
what a beautiful tribute to Winston. and a beautiful picture that says it all in his eyes.
I laughed and I cried. how wise and patient you were to realize he was celebrating with you his FOREVER home!
my beloved little Zeke had the same tumor. I kept having the fluid drained but I couldn’t bear it for him. he quit eating and then he quit drinking. and I knew it was time. he wagged his tail as we walked through the door of the vet’s clinic. they all knew him. they were as sad as I.
he was my life. it was the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. it’s truly like losing a child I think.
thank you for posting about Winston. sending you love this Wednesday morning. xoxo
It is the hardest decision. We’ve had to make it three times now and it never gets easier. I’m so sorry about your Zeke. We consider our dogs our children, so yes, it is exactly like losing a child. Thanks, Tammy.
I’m crying, too, Claudia. I’m such a sucker for heart-warming stories about animals and their people. Grace has done another beautiful watercolor. Winston, Scout and Riley sure were fortunate doggies, and you and Don were better for parenting and loving them.
They made us better human beings, Wendy.
This is such a beautiful story! What a handsome, sweet boy Winston was. I am so sorry that he only lived to about 8 years old, but how blessed you and Don were – as well as Scout and Winston himself – to all have each other for those magical years. Thank you for sharing his story with us.
You’re welcome, Melanie. He was our first baby.
What a beautiful portrait of Winston. Likewise for this post. I welled up reading it. You’re so lucky to have those remembrances of your pets. I don’t even have photos of our 3 family dogs [the last one died in the 80s when I was in my late 20s]. I’ve never owned a camera so any photos we have belong to my sibs. And my middle sister has all my parents’ old photos. Today’s post reminds me that I need to ask for copies from them. Our first dog Duchess looked A LOT like Winston. My parents got her as a puppy from a friend of my grandfather’s before they had me [their firstborn] so we grew up together. I can remember sitting on the dock at our house with Duchess & my Dad when he was fishing one sunny day – me in the middle. I couldn’t have been more than three but the memory is very clear. And I remember feeling very happy. Good times. Thanks for this heartbreakingly-sweet story. It really is true – grief is the price we pay for love. Peace.❤️🐾
#Resist
#ImpeachTrump
It is indeed. We have mourned all three of our babies. Miss them.
Claudia this is so beautiful. I have my watercolor of Charlie Kitty here in the living room and I talk to him all the time. I know he is still in my heart and someday I hope in my arms again. He and Mom’s Sam are up there chasing each other I hope. Hugs.
You never stop missing them, Linda.
Hello Claudia. I read your blog everyday but have commented only a few times. Today I cried and laughed reading about Winston. Loved how be marked his territory and your hearts! Our twelve year old rescue dog is having surgery to remove a large tumor in a difficult area. Xrays and ultrasound were taken to see if it spread, it hasn’t. We are thinking of her quality of life so that her few remaining years will be comfortable. Dogs really are family members! Thank you for sharing Winston’s story with us.
My prayers will be with your baby when he has surgery, Patty. Our dogs are indeed family members.
Patty, I hope your dog is recovering well from her surgery. Claudia, what special friends and blog friends you have. We all feel as if we know Winston from such portraits and your comments about him. Soon after we lost our last golden retriever on Easter morning, I read the blog of a woman who fosters elderly goldens and other dogs, especially those with medical issues. She lost three dogs in one month. I don’t know how she goes through that heartbreak over and over. We have just invited a 1-1/2 year old Great Pyrenees/golden retriever mix into our home, and I really questioned whether I was ready to endure the loss again.
I can’t imagine how devastating that would be, Linda.
Bless you for taking in a new family member, Linda. And I completely understand your hesitation. xo
Well, you got me crying with this one, Claudia.
We lost our beagle at age 7 and I can relate to what you’re saying when they’re taken from us too young; we figured we had another five years with our girl…but, no. It was a congenital spine issue that was…impossible. She’d been bred irresponsibly and was a rescue; we were fourth owner when she wasn’t yet a year old. Clearly, she was a bit on edge because, unbeknownst to anyone at the time, she was in pain.
But the worst was when we lost our two-year-old lab/shepherd mix when a vacant-in-the-head driver hit her while the dog was being walked on a leash by my husband in an otherwise quiet neighborhood on an unbusy morning when nothing like that should ever have happened. I’d raised that stray/rescue pup since she was 9 weeks old, dumped in our neighborhood barely weaned, never moving much from where she’d been let out, on a very hot day in summer, infested with fleas and foxtails, hungry, dehydrated. I was so grief-stricken when she was killed that I had to go to bed. What a waste of an intelligent, loyal, strong, healthy young dog. My husband was so deeply affected that he was diagnosed with depression and had to, for a limited time, take anti-depressant medication (when this is a guy who never even wants to take an aspirin). We were deeply affected by this sudden loss of our dog. Our child.
The artwork you have on the dogs is better than photos. Thank you for sharing the story of Winston; I don’t remember you expanding on it like this before and I’m glad to know of him. Of course any of us who regularly read you will always remember and love Scout, who I always personally refer to as Snow Angel. She was such a lovely girl.
Oh, how heartbreaking. It would have sent me over the edge, too. And yes, absolutely your child. I’m so sorry this happened to you, Vicki. When Winston died so suddenly and unexpectedly, I went into a depression. A significant one. It was only through taking a part-time job with a Veterinarian that I started to come out of it.
Well, you know what happened with my husband – – shortly thereafter, my dad fell ill, was on and off life support, died within the 4-5 months. I was nonstop at the hospital and my husband had to take over the care of my ailing mother back at home. He never lost time at his paying job, but now he had another job (and something more to also think about); he had new purpose, helping the family.
To this day, he’ll always blame himself for what he could have done differently to protect the dog on the leash but as we put everything together later (with witnesses) the driver was on a cell phone; even with the dog on an extended leash and my husband deep in thought, not paying attention as well as he should have, the street was so wide, with no cars; had the driver been paying attention while behind the wheel of a lethal weapon, she would never have run over the dog, as everything was in full view on a long, wide street as she approached. In my confusion and shock and grief, I’m ashamed that I at one point did blame my husband for which, of course now, I’m still horrified over; but, I wasn’t myself. I was lashing out in stress and sorrow. It was a violent end for our dog where I had just seen her minutes before and she was happy and wiggly to go on her walk, only to then have my husband shouting to call the vet as I watched him lay her on the grass, dying. It was just too much; too much. I know you can understand because you and Don are dog lovers as are my husband and I.
Claudia, you and Don have been wonderful dog parents. We all do our best, but we don’t have the pets for very long, do we. And they can’t always tell us what’s wrong, the dear babies. Now, even though you’re currently dog-less, you have a new menagerie with all the creatures of your garden – – Henry, the bunnies, the butterflies, the birds. It’s nice.
(What also helped my husband was that there happened to be an ad in the classifieds, free to a good home [which always makes me shudder when people do that because you have no idea who you’re giving your pet to and some people have bad intent in answer to those types of ads; the vet has told me some real nightmare stories; like, don’t DO that; if you can’t keep your pet, at least take it to a shelter where it can get thoughtfully adopted out]. This ad was for the aforementioned beagle, and she was adorable; she did have some very winning ways. It wasn’t that we replaced the one big girl with this little girl, but my husband needed something that was alive and to which he could pour his love into, besides all he was doing to help my dad and my mom. There’s this line in an old Waltons TV show episode where one of the daughters in the barn says, “It always feels better to hug a cow.” Well, when you need comfort, there’s nothing better than hugging a dog. Or stroking a purring kitty. My aunt would talk to her parakeets. We need the creature connection.
I understand that he felt to blame, but he wasn’t. Nonetheless, it is heartbreaking. I’m so, so sorry.
As one who is trying desperately to master animal portraits, I recognize what a marvelous piece of art this is. Certainly you see someone special and clearly the likeness is excellent to elicit your reaction, but even without that wonderful emotional connection it would be a remarkable painting. Bravo — what a generous and exciting thing to encounter. And oh, how I loved the stories you shared.
It’s beautifully done, isn’t it? Thanks, Jeanie.
What a lovely story about your beloved Winston (and Scout too). Once they worm their way into your heart, they never, ever leave. I have days when I so miss our kitty Allie who died in March that I just ache. Over the years I was always the one to take the family pet on that final visit to the vet. That includes my parents’ dog, which started out as MY dog. It’s never an easy decision.
Right now I’m trying to be there for Allie’s sister. Keezia is so stressed by all the reno noise since they’re still in the “tear out, knock down” stage. Every day I have to coax her out of what has always been her “safe place” because it’s a closet right over all the action on the first floor. So I get her to come into our room on the other side of house upstairs and play soothing classical music for her. Hoping this will get Keeze through this thing without her becoming a 14 yr old neurotic wreck.
Never easy. Always heartbreaking.
I hope dear Keezia can find some peaceful pockets in her day. Poor thing!
Beautiful.
Thank you!