Red, the dog, went to his maker while nestled in my arms on soft blankets in the local veterinarian’s exam room. The end was quick, dignified, and paid for ahead of time.

This happened months ago and life has not stopped for any of us who shared Red’s life.

The dog is missed and as time keeps passing, so does Red’s memory.

We put him down because he could not stand anymore. The once powerful dog who took us for walks and tested every leash ever invented, now often fell and lay where he fell, until someone got home from work. Often the spot where he fell became his bathroom, and when we got home his soft whimpers led us to his mess.

He walked less and less his last few years, panting and struggling behind us, his mind still trying to get him to the front, to be the leader of the pack.

He was blind, too, and uninterested in chasing his lifelong nemesis, the Mail Carrier, simply nodding slightly as the red, white, and blue truck pulled away.

Time can pass in huge chunks but there are moments when the loss of Red overwhelms us.

When we eat pizza and have no sad, brown eyes, begging for the crust.

When we work in the yard and squirrels frolic with impunity. (Red never caught one, he just made them uncomfortable. )

When there is a noise late at night not met with the deep, woof of his bark.

Red was the best dog, ever, and he was a rescue dog, an animal someone else did not want.

He was our partner for 12 years and we did the right thing for him in the vet’s office.

But we sure do miss him…