Boss was a rescue for us; our first. He was left in a backyard in one of those small wire dog cages. We fell in love with him immediately and he was the first fur baby to live in our new house when we bought it a week later after rescuing him. He was goofy, loving, lazy, silly; the list could go on and on. He loved a bath; he would jump in the shower with you, or jump straight into his own awaiting bath. He was even accepting of the other two rescue pit bulls we brought home a year later.
His passing was in part our own naive fault. We fed him table scraps and didn’t pay attention to his weight getting out of control. We were too late in getting him to the vet on the day he passed, when we realized there was something not right. He had developed diabetes and was almost in a diabetic coma. Making the choice to put him to sleep was the hardest thing I have ever done. I let him lay his head on my arm as I laid my head on his body, and he passed peacefully. I wrote this for him today, when I brought him home;
‘You are back home, although this is not what I had in mind when I thought of bringing you home. I was thinking of the old tail wagging, licking and bumping into me as I try to walk through the door. Boss, I’ve missed you so much in the past week and I know you are gone forever now, but it still hurts. In time it will get better, I know. I have been trying to prepare myself for two days to go pick you up when they called. Now you’re back home boy, back where you belong. We all love and miss you.’