Nothing stays the same and nothing lives forever.
When my ex and I divorced, I took Socks and he kept Bastian. Mostly due to lifestyle. Socks would be happy indoors most anywhere. Bastian had always been able to be out and run, chase small animals and bugs. We adopted Bastian from the office head at my place of business in fall of 1999. She had "adopted" five pups who had lived all summer at the common dock on the Ohio river where she lived. She said they had been born in May. It was November and getting cold, the mother dog was long gone. I took my youngest daughter and she chose Bastian. The lady had named him already, but Amber insisted. His name is from "the never ending story".
He was a great dog. (I know, people always think their dog is the best in the universe). He only had two accidents in the house that I can remember. The first was when he hadn't been with us long, maybe at Christmas time. He had gotten into a bowl of hershey kisses.. He pooped chocolate foil for a day or so, everywhere. It's a wonder it didn't kill him. Chocolate is NOT good for pets. After that, he never ate anything he wasn't supposed to. He didn't beg (too much). If it looked like he was, we would just say "no begging' and he would go lay down on his pillow.
There was a time he was in trouble often. All because we would get up in the morning and the newspapers would be scattered all over the floor in the family room. Late one night my husband had insomnia and was in the front room at the computer. All of a sudden my ex heard a commotion. It was newspapers flying. He could see around the corner and the dog was on his pillow, head on the floor between his paws, looking up with big eyes. As my husband got up and quietly walked around the corner and looked at the couch he could see the culprit. Socks was standing on the couch, on top of those newspapers facing the back of the couch, kicking newspapers and fast as she could. She saw my ex and jumped straight up about 4 feet and took off, not to be seen for quite a while. I think she lost one of her lives that night. We all owed Bastian huge apologies, since we'd been disciplining him morning after morning. We all felt so bad.
He loved those "Beggin strips". He would get two in the evening. We could leave the bag sit out all day, open, on the floor and he would never touch it. But as soon as one of us would reach for it he would dance and dance.
I saw him several months ago when I went to get the last of my things out of the house. He was looking older and slower, grey whiskers and no longer jumped on me when I walked up. I said my good-byes to him again, figuring I'd not see him again. I was right. He got sick, very quickly. My ex took him to the vet yesterday morning and they took x-rays. He had a tumor that was putting large amount of pressure against his lungs. He couldn't lay down. After taking some time to think about it, he had Bastian put to sleep. He sat and held him through the procedure until he fell asleep and relaxed. He then took him home and buried him.
Everything has it's time and place. I wish I could talk to my ex. I know how hard it was. We'd had quite a few pets over the years and gone through this together. Bastian led a good dog's life. As my oldest wrote:
My oldest and I went and brought Mom to stay with me for a few days while my siblings and I figure out what to do. She needs a lot more attention and company than she has had. She needs to not drive anymore. We need to make sure she takes her meds properly, throws away spoiled food, eats well, all those necessities. She has a dog. Darcy likes to bark. Now I have a cat and a dog living here along with Mom.
Life takes it's twists and turns. Life is good and bumpy. It's much like the good ole wooden roller coasters. Never a dull moment, to be sure. I'll figure out training and stuff later.