He has been my constant companion for the last 6 ½ years and so it’s left a huge hole in my life. I went through my hard disk looking for photos of him to include in this post and he is just everywhere in them. For the first 4 years we were never apart even for a single day; except for a week I was in the hospital. Then we met Brian and Steve who loved Homer every bit as much as I did and I trusted with him. They watched Homer for me a few different times.
Together we have driven over 60,000 miles all across this country, been to most of the National Parks and hiked over 10,000 miles together in some of the most beautiful places imaginable. All of that would have been empty without him.
Because he has been a constant in all the pictures I’ve taken, some of you noticed that he was no longer in my pictures and have asked about him in your comments. As odd as this may sound, I am not a person who likes public awareness of my deepest pain and greatest pleasure. I try hard to be open and honest in this blog but there are many things that are mine alone and I don’t want to share with anyone, much less the world; this is one of those things. Somehow, both public sympathy and congratulations are very difficult for me and something I try hard to avoid.
However, there is no getting round it, he’s gone and I must talk about it; I waited a month to try to compose myself and be able to write this without falling apart. Beyond that, many of you have met him and probably consider him a part of me—it’s been a running joke with me for a while that Homer is more well-know and liked than I am! Virtually everyone who came to an RTR met Homer, because wherever I was, he was. For several years I’ve kept an open camp that welcomed any of my readers who cared to, to drop by. Many of you have, and of course you met Homer. Homer was a very well known and loved dog! I think I owe it to him, and to all of you, to give him a fond farewell and a celebration of his life. In this post and in the next one I will share our story together and include lots of pictures. Hopefully, the pictures will include enough of our travels to be interesting for everyone and not just those who knew Homer.
Before I tell you our story, let me tell you how it ended. As you read this, bear in mind that when he was younger, Homer was a supreme athlete! He could run faster than any dog we ever met and could run at full speed for miles chasing a deer or rabbit. He was a long, lean, hard, bundle of muscle capable of nearly anything. He was about 10 ½ old when he died, but for a big dog that is old. For the last few years he has been dramatically slowing down. Probably two years ago he stopped chasing rabbits and for him that is a sure sign of old age because he lived to hunt and chase anything that moved. For a while he didn’t chase them very far or fast, but soon he simply didn’t chase them at all.
Then a year ago he developed a lot of symptoms of arthritis and old age and I had to basically stop taking him on walks or letting him play with other dogs. Suddenly, he gained a lot of weight and a blood test showed his thyroid had failed and he need to be on hormones. Then a few months back he fell and hurt his shoulder and walking was difficult for him. I thought it was a simple sprain so I waited to take him to the vet. But he kept getting worse and eventually was practically lame. So we went to the vet where he had X-rays and a blood test for Valley Fever (a disease that only occurs in the desert southwest and predominately around Phoenix, AZ). The X-rays showed a lesion on his shoulder that was causing the pain and lameness. A lesion there almost always means bone cancer, but there was a slight chance that Valley Fever could cause it as well. The test came back with a very faint positive for Valley Fever which was good news because it’s treatable whereas bone cancer is a death sentence for dogs.
So we put him on pain killers for the pain and meds for the Valley Fever. Just because he had Valley Fever didn’t mean he might also have bone cancer—which was more likely. The only way to know was to give him the meds for Valley Fever and see if he responded. If the pain and lameness went away then it was caused by the Valley Fever, if it did not, then it was bone cancer. His vets best guess was 50-50 either one. Instead of going away, it steadily got worse. At the end, it was to the point I had to lift him in and out of the van or trailer and walking off to go to the bathroom was torture. But even worse, the combination of drugs he was on was making him sick to his stomach. He threw up often and lost his appetite. Clearly he had bone cancer and it’s a death sentence.
When I had to put my last dog down, I’d made the selfish mistake of waiting too long so that she had suffered too much because I was a coward and putting her down was going to be very hard. When I buried her I apologized for not being a better owner and swore two things to her:
- My next dog I would give the best possible life to, and
- I would not be too late putting him down.
Those two promises have directed my every action since I got Homer. Every major life decision I made I weighed first on how it would affect him, and if it didn’t give him his best possible life, I did whatever would. An example of that was when I need to go back to work to supplement my retirement. I’ve worked in the grocery business all my life and could easily get a good-paying job in a grocery store. But that would have been a terrible life for Homer, so it was not even a consideration! I’d struggle by before I’d do something like that. But then I found out about campground hosting in the National Forests. That would be the perfect job for him! He likes people and kids and he could go on my rounds with me every day. Best of all, every morning we would wake up in a National Forest—there is no better life for a dog than that!
He laid down on the carpet in the exam room and I sat down beside him and stroked and petted him, saying my goodbyes. The vet came in and administered the shot. To distract him from the brief pain of the shot I spoke softly to him and kept his eyes focused on mine. The whole time I had my hand on his chest and I could feel his heartbeat slow down, flutter and stop; he was gone, life had left him. I’m not sentimental about our bodies so the vet asked what I wanted to do with the body and I said to cremate it and that I didn’t want the ashes back.
I once a read a book on Buddhism that described life as like a great Ocean of Consciousness that was somehow the mind of the First Source or a Higher Power of some kind. And that on this great Ocean of Consciousness waves would form on the surface and that those individual waves would somehow get the concept of individuality or “ego.” To them they seemed like they were alone and separate, but that in fact they were always just a part of the great Ocean of Consciousness and after a very tiny moment of time they would sink back down into the Ocean and return to being a part of the Great Oneness. That’s exactly how I view life.
So as I watched the light go out of Homers eyes and his heartbeat decline and stop, I had this very clear image in my mind of his individual wave sinking slowly back into the Great Oneness and I knew his life was not over, he was just gone from here. We are destined to be together again, either as individual waves or as One in the Great Ocean.
While I found that very comforting, it’s still been a very difficult time for me, as you can well imagine. I’ve shed many tears and I’m sure I’ll shed many more. But my brief moment in this wave isn’t over and I want to live it to its fullest. There is more life to be lived and work to be done and that keeps my mind off of him.
So in this post and in the next, I want to send him off with this celebration of his life; a life lived well and to its fullest! Farewell my beloved friend Homer, may I be half the man that you were a dog! I hope I come back as your dog, and you treat me exactly as I have treated you!
Bob, I truly am sorry for your loss. Homer was happy in all of your pictures and you gave him an awesome life. I have lost three dogs during my life. They truly give their owners great joy and happiness.
Homer was a very special pup and had a very special person. We’ll all miss him, and I feel honored to have been able to give his head a pat or two.
I was crying even before I really started your post. Homer sounds absolutely incredible and I know his departure must leave a huge hole in your being. All I can say is I understand and wish you comfort as you continue on your journey. Blessings.
A beautiful tribute to a wonderful friend. He had the best life that a dog ever could living as he did with you.
I’m glad to have known Homer. Whenever he’d see me again after a few weeks or months away, he’d come over and press against me for a rub. His last days there by Zion park I could tell he still wanted to explore, but his body wasn’t up for what his soul wanted to do. It was incredibly hard for me to put down my dog. (His ashes are with me in the van.) So I know what it must be like for you. Too bad he couldn’t see Alaska.
He always did that with me too… as if we had never been apart.
My deepest condolences go out to you as I know the pain that you feel is so very real and quite personal. I lost my Bassett Hound Henry, January of this year and also had to make the decision to put him down because of a spinal disease that he contacted. It was one of the hardest things I have had to do, but also the right one since he was in so much pain because of this disease.
In your photos, he looks so happy to be sharing those memories with you and that is what you need to dwell on, not so much as letting go, but to know that this wonderful dog was able to share his life with you and also loved you in return.
Thanks Evelyn, there were so many happy times it’s pretty easy to concentrate on those. Going through the pictures really helped, a kind of therapy.
You’re a good man and Homer had a great life with you. He is at peace now and his spirit will live on in your heart and mind.
Thanks Omar, very kind of you to say!
Oh Bob, this feeling is hitting home so hard for us. Homer was such a good boy and we loved him very much! While it is so difficult to let your ‘soul mate’ go, we know we will see them again some day. He had thee best owner he could have ever asked for, you did him good! Shoot, he had a better life than most humans have! We love you so much and while it will be very different without him around, he’s loving you so much for putting him in a nicer place! Thank you. We love you and hope to see you soon.
Thanks Kyndal, you and James were always great friends to him too! I hope to see you this winter!!?
I am so sorry for your loss. In another blog post, you noted that you resolved never to put Homer on a leash even if it meant that his lifespan could be reduced as a result of it. That post was so inspiring to me because your words force me to think about the quality of each day I live and not the quantity of the days lived!
Homer lived a very full and rich life because you were a part of it!
Misty eyed, I am, missing Homer Boy, as I lovingly call him and sang to him. We’ll miss you Homer spirit and look forward to rejoining you someday! Rochelle loves him so much and I know would have given him doggie kisses those last days. Here’s to many fond memories to the bravest, luckiest dog ever, sweet Homer!
Gloria, hug Pickles every day for me and remind her that she is loved!
Oh my, it is a sad day at my house.
Thanks Sam, he brought lots of people a lot of joy.
My heart just broke a little when I pulled up your blog to read. I am so sorry that you have lost Homer!
Lynn, I loved him very much!
It’s getting dusty in here….
Thanks Joe, he will be missed.
Man, this hit me hard as my dog is over 14.
Sounds like Homer had an ideal life.
CAE, treasure every moment you have together, and buy him a hamburger every so often!
Very nice tribute. I’m glad you and Homer were able to spend so much time together in nature. Peace.
openspaceman, that’s what made us so special, we were constantly in nature. I set out to give him his best possible life, and ended up giving me my best possible life.
Oh Bob, I am so sorry! Homer was such a special soul, and I feel blessed to have known him for even a little while. Thank you for sharing him with us.
Thank you LaVonne!
Thank you Rob.
Great pictures, a fitting tribute to your good friend. I agree with your concept of life and living, and death. This is basically our best chance, make the best of it… You and Homer have. Sad, tears, my condolences.
Thank you jonthebru.
Truly Sorry for your loss, Bob
You and Homer made a great team.
Awesome ambassadors for the vandwelling & RV community, always gentle and understanding.
Thanks Kirk! We really were an amazing team together. Connected in a way I can’t understand or explain.
“Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.” -Albert Einstein
Thank you for sharing, Bob. As you alluded to in your post, our loved ones will always be with us; watching and waiting for us to come home.
Just a guy, I am so looking forward to that homecoming!
We won’t be able to recognize you now! 🙂 Seriously, thank you for letting us know. Your dedication and responsibility is inspiring. Take care, Bob.
Canine, no, now I’m only half a man so how could you recognize me. I an’t tell you how many people I met the first thing they said was they immediately knew Homer!
My condolences Bob, I felt I knew Homer long before I ever met him, thanks to your blog posts. I will never forget the greeting I got from Homer on our first meeting. Thanks to you he had a life of freedom, joy and pure happiness.
Thanks David, he loved our walks with you as well!
Sorry to hear about your pooch.
We just lost our beloved 13 year old golden retriever Sam two Fridays ago. His hips were deteriorating and they finally gave out. His hips were noticeably going the last year and for the last few months he needed assistance to stand. Found a local vet who after checking him over said that he wouldn’t be able to stand anymore.
We held him in our arms and scritched his chin as the vet administered the fatal shot. He was wagging his tail and looking into our eyes as he faded.
We gave him a good loving burial.
Like you and your dog..we have many years of happy memories and tons of great pics and videos to remember our boy by.
But..for the foreseeable future the void of him not being around will be difficult.
Best to you.
Bill, my heart goes out to, I know just writing that brought back stabbing pangs of those last moments. It’s good to know it gets better.
You will lose someone by Anne Lamott
You will lose someone you can’t live without,
And your heart will be badly broken,
And the bad news is that you will never completely get over the loss of your beloved.
But this is also the good news.
They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up.
And you come through.
It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly; that still hurts when the weather gets cold,
But you learn to dance with the limp.
How lovely Chris! Dancing with a limp describes me well!
My condolences Bob. I know what having a dog as your sole companion means. I only met Homer for a short while, but the bond between you two was clear. I had a good life with you.
Thanks Curtis, we did have a special bond.
I’m still wiping away the tears, I’m so sorry Bob. Thank you for sharing this incredible tribute to your special friend Homer, it was an honor to meet him at Thanksgiving, walk with him and see the special bond between the two of you. Saying goodbye to a family member is never easy and wish you many blessings in the coming months as you travel to Alaska with loving and supportive friends. Homer will always be sitting there in the passenger seat guiding, smiling his wise doggie smile and protecting you.
Thanks Gretchen, I know he is always with me!
Bob, I was surprised at how hard this news hit me.
Even though I had only been around Homer and you for a short period of time last summer, I could tell that the bond between you two was exceptional. Over the years I’ve seen how many people just treat their dogs as though they are just a possession without love. Maybe tied up in their backyards all day.
You on the other hand treated Homer like you would a soul mate with love and respect. I really enjoyed seeing that between you two. You both gave each other a more meaningful life. And I think that Homer is a very lucky dog to have spent his life with you. and as I can tell you were a very lucky man to have spent time with Homer.
Homer as the dog will be greatly missed by all of us who were able to spend any time with him.
Rest in Peace,
Thank you Richard! You know, I do think there was an unusually special bond between us. I don’t know what, how or why. But I really loved that dog. We had a freedom with each other I’ve never experienced before. Beyond explanation.
So sorry for your loss. We have always had dogs so know your pain. Your tribute was most beautiful.
Thank You Monique. He deserved even more than I could give him in a tribute.
I truly believe that you will meet in the next life as you have in past lives. A connection this strong is a bridge across eternity.
David, I also totally believe that! It will be a very good day.
What a lovely tribute to your wonderful companion. It’s always hard to lose those fur faces (I’d rather lose a limb) they are a member of the family and it’s incredibly difficult to say goodbye. You did the last best thing for him. You did the right thing. Peace and comfort to you my friend, and when the time is right I hope you consider getting another canine pal. There are so many out there that need the home and the love you have to offer. Hugs to you.
Thanks Shawna. That time will be very soon. I need the love of a dog in my life and I need to love and serve him.
Well crud and double crud! I lost my dog last year to cancer also and seeing your post brought me back and I know how hard it is for you. I loved my old pooch more than anyone also.
Sorry for your loss. Dogs are much better than people aren’t they.
Camilla, they are! At least I know Homer was better than I ever was.
By far the hardest reading I’ve ever done, grateful I was alone as not to embarrass myself.
I too remember your post on Homer and no leash. And my best friend walks without a leash as well, trained by me to do this in the city of all places. Many are amazed that she won’t cross into the street, no matter a bird, dog or cat within view. Not I, we know each other like no other.
Bob, I’ve read on your posts many times that you are a solitary person, can’t imagine how hard it was to share this. After a painful read, I forced myself to read the comments. After which it is clear that you are not alone in grief. Probably not what you wanted, never the less.
Tom, it is difficult, but I know people want to express there love and concern and that’s more important than anything else. Fortunately I think I waited long enough so I am doing okay.
Even though we have never met I could see the bond between you and Homer! Your loss will partially heal with time. We’ve had to escort several pets to the Rainbow Bridge and it is one of the hardest things to do!
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….
Thanks so much Ted, what a wonderful story. The only problem is I’m sitting at a Starbucks with tears streaming down my face! People are starring!
At times like this words often cannot convey the depth of feelings that we have. But know that he will be loved in heaven as he was on earth.
Thanks Fred, I do believe that as well.
Bob, we are so glad we got to meet and walk with Homer last summer in Flagstaff. He was a very special dog.
Thanks Jim and Gayle. It was our pleasure.
I am so very sorry that your Homer had to leave. I understand how painful a decision it was for you to make but a necessary one for Homer’s sake. Thank you for being willing to share him with us, despite the sadness it brings. I hope that sharing him will eventually bring you some joy also as you remember the good times you shared with him.
Jo, it has been every therapeutic to go through the photos and post them. I’m very glad I did.
I am sorry to hear about Homer. My dear friend, Buffy, left the physical world back in 1996. I had her cremated in order for her to be with me forever. Although the amount of money was difficult for me, there is no amount of money that will keep us apart.
Homer is and will ever be loved by your fans.
Thank you Kandy.
I’m so so sorry to hear about Homer I’ve had dogs all of my 55 years on this earth and I truly know what you are going through I have lost family members that didn’t hurt me as bad as my dogs passing a dog is the one thing on this earth that loves you unconditional you can be poor, rich, fat, slim, pretty, ugly it does not matter to a dog as long as you love them they will love you I truly feel your pain Mr Bob thank you so much for this post and all the others you have shared with us you have truly been a joy in my life even though we have never met
Jim, that’s one of the nicest comments I’ve ever gotten, thank you!
Bob, my dog Tara aka “Bullwinkle” was much like Homer. She went everywhere with me. I had to put her down also and to this day I have not been able to get another dog to replace her. Perhaps when I am on the road fulltime I will fill my life with that joy again. I send you my very best wishes as I understand.
Greg, we all react to their loss in different ways, some are like you and can’t bear more pain. I wasn’t sure how I would feel but I’ve gotten a very strong compulsion to get another one NOW. I think it will be soon.
so sorry to hear about Homer. You gave him a great life and looked after him to the very end, he was a lucky dog.
NO! I am typing this through my tears. I sensed this at the RTR last winter. My heart is breaking for you. Oh, I am so sad. Homer was the greatest dog I ever knew and I will remember always the walks he took with me alone in Paulden AZ… and how he was always stopping to look after me, and how we shared my bottle of water, him drinking out of my hand. And my final visit with him at RTR last winter when I sat with him and petted him, sensing it was the last time I could do that. What an honor it was to know this great soul. Bob, I am so very sorry for your loss… I love you both. R.I.P. Dear Homer.
Charlene, I know he loved you just as deeply as you loved him. It was an honor to know him.
Oh Dang it, I’m crying again.
And May 16 was my 70th birthday and the day I kayaked my last (50th state) Hawaii. Every birthday from now on I will remember Homer.
What a sad reminder on a day that should be happy for you, Swankie.
Words are inadequate to express how sorry I am. There is nothing like the love of a precious dog. I’ve had to bury too many, myself. I know you will miss Homer forever, but you gave him a wonderful life. Bob, I am truly sorry. My heart is very heavy for you.
Thank you Debbie.
Bob, I understand how hard it can be to share the heights and depths of your spiritual journey, and this sharing is with many of us. Thank you for taking that effort and for giving Homer the best life he could have had.
Bob: There are no suitable words to express my sadness at the passing of Homer. The day I had my beloved Juneau put to sleep was the hardest day in my existence. I have thought about it over the years and I have figured out why that loss was greater than that, of a parent. My dog loved me unconditionally and never disappointed me in any way. Her loyalty was unassailable and her companionship was a constant no matter how irritable I may have felt. No human has ever been capable of being as “God like” a friend as my Juneau and that kind of loss hurts to the core. As long as you can fondly remember Homer, he will never be gone.
Thanks Gary for your very wise and thoughtful words. They help Homer’s love truly was god-like..
My very deepest sympathy, Bob. How fortunate you both were to have each other, and how fortunate you are to have so many wonderful memories of your dear friend.
My sister received some very good advice from a vet when she had a beloved cat put down. She told my sister to think of it as the last kind thing she did for her pet. I hope this gives you a small bit of comfort.
Sending a virtual big bear hug your way.
Naomi, that does help. I have to be careful or I can fall into the “I killed him” thinking, which is not true at all. It was my last act of unselfish love.
Oh Bob, I’m so sorry to hear this news. I can feel your love for Homer in every word you’ve written and even in what you’ve left unsaid. You gave Homer an amazing life and he in turn lifted you up.
Not a day goes by that I don’t show my appreciation to my two dogs. I dread the day that I’ll have to say goodbye.
Peggy, it’s that daily grounding in love they give us that means so much. You are wise to take the time every day.
With tears streaming from my eyes, my heart so heavy with another loss of my family… I have nothing but great memories of my best friend Holmes, from his love and trips over for cookies to the Gladiator battles between Zeke and Homer for our entertainment with front row seats… He is out of pain but he is in a no better place than with you and your gift to him of a life all dogs envy…
Love ya man, sorry I was not there for you…
Steve & Zeke…
Thanks Steve, I know how much you loved him. After the great job you did getting Zeke, I better wait till I get back this fall to have you help me find the next member of our family.
so sorry to hear it Bob.. Homer is hands down my favorite fur person!! I’m sure he’s chasin rabbits or the equivalent somewhere :)!!
I can only imagine how it feels on your end, just know my heart is with ya!! Day by day I watch the Gray hair spread on Tori.. still not alot, but it’s there and wont go away.. I dont look forward to crossin that bridge.
Nemo, give Tori an extra big hug for me! She has the advantage of being a smaller dog, so she should have many good years ahead. And you can know that you gave her the very BEST possible life a human can give a dog.
Sending my deepest sympathy for your loss, Bob. You gave Homer a wonderful life and then you gave him a compassionate release. I like what Naomi posted, that it is the last kind thing we can do for them. Take comfort in all the goodness and love you two shared.
Judith, it honestly is a deep comfort to remember all the wonderful moments.
A beautiful tribute, Bob. I’m so sorry for your loss. Darn dogs – they just get us trained and then they take off! xx
Darned dogs indeed!
“It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them. And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are.” – author unknown
How wonderful that is Sparrow!! It truly is my deepest desire to be as good and wonderful as Homer was. I’m already looking forward to seeing what my next dog brings into my heart.
I am so glad you are traveling with Judy right now. That has to help some. Wish we could all be there to give you big hugs although I suspect you are glad we aren’t. It is hard to grieve in public. The fact that you could even make this post now then respond to comments shows what a strong man you are.
Linda, it has been a real joy to have her along. I knew I had to wait to post and heal and this seemed like a good time. Being busy and on the go was probably the best possible thing.
I so understand your timing and not letting Homer suffer any longer. You just know in your heart when the time is now. Putting it off does not help there quality of life.Once again I tip my hat to you Bob you knew when to do the right thing. I put a dog to sleep to the outcry of family and neighbors. I knew it was time. 80 lbs falling everywhere not eating ect.As they said just one more day I said NOT one more day. As responsible people we have the power to help our 4 legged friends move on to the next world and leave the pain behind. I am happy to have met you and Homer at the last RTR. You were a lucky couple to have found each other. Peace to you may your heart mend a little each day.
Thanks so much Linda, mending a little every day is the best way after all!
With tears I read this… I have not met you or your sweet best friend. I found this on Pintrest of all places. However I have had dogs that we have had to put down our last one was Marlo who we had for 11 years. She got a tumor which we didn’t know till late and then she declined fast. We also didn’t want her to suffer more than needed just because we would miss her.
Said no dogs for while, but not long after, we found a new best friend, Allie who at the time of writing this is not feeling herself. She doesn’t want to go for walk, vomited a few times yesterday but so far since supper she has had 4 T of chicken and rice and licked some ice cubes and drank a bit. So she seems to be coming around. She is not yet 2 so may have eaten something on our walks. We will watch her this eve, and tomorrow. We hope to go up t our Rv on Thurs eve or Friday am, till tues. ( we are seasonal right now) so depending on Allie will be when we go.
So reading this and totally remembering sitting on the floor with Marlo, feeling the same sad but knowing it is right feelings and now watching Allie not feel well; well your blog brought it all back.
Condolences to you as your travel along without your buddy. I hope you keep your memories close to your heart and know you still have a co pilot watching over you.
Thank you Cindy. It’s amazing how our heart sinks at the first sign of health problem with them. She’s so young I’m sure she will be fine. Keep loving her!
Bob you are just a dog kind of guy !
Get another puppy
No puppies for me Charlie, but for sure another dog!
I am deeply sorry, Homer had a great life with you. Keeping you in my thoughts. I also believe we will all see our loved fur babies again in time.
Tina, I’m looking forward to that.
Very sorry for your loss. I have a 5 year old Westie, and my only dread for my dog is the dread of that day that you faced with Homer, your best friend, when you said good bye to him for the last time.
You did the right thing ending his suffering, but it was the most unselfish thing. Small comfort.
Dogs love us for being ourselves, and they are unselfish in their devotion and loyalty. You returned that loyalty by doing the right thing, but the hard thing.
There are few friendships more powerful than that of a caring man and his loyal dog. Sounds like you both are lucky for having had that relationship.
Very sorry for your loss.
Dan, the whole relationship is pretty incomprehensible to me. How could I love a dog so much? I don’t know, but I’m very glad I did.
Bob both you and Homer are in my prayers tonight. I too experienced the loss of Cocoa my chocolate Labrador 7 years ago. Cocoa had a litter and left me with a black Labrador Kobe. Kobe is my life he turns 12 on November 3rd. I’ve learned so much from them both. Better to love than be loved. My deepest respect for you.You were truly Blessed to have such a trusted companion through your journey. He is now with God as we All will be when our earthly journey ends. Thy Will be done. Ray
Ray, you are so right, better to love than be loved. Taking care of and providing for him was my deepest joy. Yes, Thy Will Be Done.
My sympathies to you for the loss of your friend and companion, Homer.
There are many dogs in our lives, but, ever so often along comes a “heart dog” — Homer was that. Homer, was a man’s best friend in the real meaning of the phrase.
Homer expanded his range to become a camper acknowledger, checking out new arrivals to the circle. Those of us with dogs watched them become excited when they caught sight of Homer as we arrived. Homer was a leader of the camp dogs and we knew our dogs could be trusted with him.
If there is another place where dogs go after they spend time with us, I am sure Homer will be met by those dogs gone before, who, in their earthly life were blessed to get the chance to run leash free with him… and they will be running free of all restraints that finally overcame them.
It’s us humans who now have a kind of pain, finding it so hard to let them loose for that last time.
Crying with you Bob, so sorry.
My deepest condolences.
I was accused of putting my dog (Peggysue)down to early.
Peggysue had a breathing problem. When she tried to keep up with me ( I took it very easy) I caused her to caugh.
Her brain was on go go go but her lung said no no no.
She had problems jumping in the passenger seat and on the bed. The vet said medication would help but make her feel sick so I put her down.
It made it as happy for her as I could. I put on my best face and a happy voice so she could not feel any bad vibes.
Peggysue was 11.5 years old and buried in the backyard next to her mother and aunt.
Opa, it’s so hard to do it when everything in us says NO to wait as long as possible. But our obligation is to them, not to ourselves. I’m sure you did the right thing.
We all enjoyed Homer. He was a good boy. My little Sophie enjoyed him too. Sorry for your loss. You did ‘the right thing’ in setting him loose for the last time. Take care of yourself and enjoy your trip.
Randy, I had not thought of it that way, letting him run truly free one last time. That helps.
This dog was good,and lucky for the two of you to spend time together.
Thanks Kim, we were both very, very lucky to find each other!
Thank you for the lovely rememberance of Homer.I am new to your site and blog and I’m enjoying it thoroughly. I will look keenly for pictures of Homer henceforth.
Thanks Mike, thinking back to those days still chokes me up and brings a tear to my eye. I dearly loved that good friend.
Now you’ll see pictures of Cody who I love just as much!