altivo

It's all the name he had. He was part of our daily life for five years after we took him as a rescue when he was six. Red was a big guy, maybe not the brightest dog we ever had but certainly among the sweetest and quietest. He followed us faithfully from room to room as we did daily chores, learned commands readily though he sometimes had a mind of his own, and was always gentle and tolerant of our other dogs and even the cats (who sometimes slept snuggled with him or even on top of him.) He was a hundred pounds of appetite and affection, and we'll miss him for a long time. Eleven years is a long life for a big dog, and he accepted his growing infirmities placidly, struggling but never complaining. A growing failure of his spine gradually took away his mobility until at last he couldn't rise and walk without falling and hurting himself, yet he kept trying. Yesterday he gave up and we knew we had to carry him into the vet's office. There was nothing more we could do but hold him close, say a tearful good-bye as he left us, and hope to see him again, eventually, whole and young once more.

Thanks to all of you who have sent sympathetic comments. I'm overwhelmed now and can't answer every single one, but we really appreciate it. Eventually there will be another dog, but he or she won't be Red. Nor any of the other ghosts who haunt us: Sasha, Tee, Simon, Sarah, Sunny, Max, Amanda, Mikey. All of them loved, all of them sorely missed.