Love bites

We had Ollie put to sleep early this afternoon. I am crushed, devastated, my glasses so blurred with tears that I can hardly see.

What can I say about Ollie? What can't I say about Ollie?

When he was new to us and just a puppy the size of a guinea pig, I yelled at him for something. He gave me a look, scooted over to my shoe and shit in my shoe. Then he looked me in the eye, hmumpffed at me and walked away. I never yelled at him after that.

Whenever I came home, he always had to bring me something, a sock, a toy, a stick. I don't know what I'm going to do now when I need sticks without a little dog to bring them to me.

Ollie was always patient with me, always willing to listen to me, always making me laugh. He may have been small but he didn't know that. He would swagger about the yard lifting a leg here and there to deposit his scent, or show his teeth to Rocco when Rocco tried to make the moves on Ollie's chews. Ollie put up with Rocco pulling the squeakies out of all his squeakies and had taken to hiding them all around the house and the yard. Since it's grass cutting season, Michael has been finding the squeakies and bringing them into the house for Ollie. Ollie would give us one of those long suffering sighs of his, take the squeaky outside and find a new hiding place for it. We have found squeakies and bones in the most unusual places such as my shoe, by purse, the laundry basket and under the pillows on Josh's bed. No doubt we will be finding them for some time.

What breaks my heart most of all is Josh. Ollie was his, a Christmas gift from friends when Josh was a senior in High School. Josh adored Ollie and Ollie adored Josh back. Last night I overheard josh talking to Ollie. Ollie was sprawled on his pillow and Josh down on his hands and knees, his face close to Ollie's. Josh was telling Ollie that if it was his time to go, that he could go and that Josh would take care of me. That Mommy would be alright, and Josh would see to it. Today, after the deed was done and the hole dug in the back yard, Josh came to get Ollie, wrapped in his towel. He so tenderly brushed the leaves and twigs off the towel and murmured to the bundle, "let me clean this off for you , buddy, but you always did like to get dirty. Ollie was notorious for running through puddles, the goopier the better, or playing in the snow till his coat was so filled with snowballs he could be considered a deadly weapon.

Ollie loved frozen meatballs and head rubs. chicken jerkey and blue cheese, or any cheese. He patrolled the yard each morning, his circuit taking him through the bamboo and under bushes, and around the pool. It used to be Mutley, Ollie and Pip the cat/ Then it was Ollie and Rocco and Pip, then Ollie and Rocco, then Ollie and now no one will traverse the bamboo on the lookout for woodchucks and other critters.

Ollie was such a little dog but he was such a big personality. I don't know how I am going to make it without him.

If there is one bright spot in this whole thing, it's that he's with Rocco now. I can see it in my mind. Here comes Ollie all piss and vinegar starting over that rainbow bridge marking his territory as he goes. Rocco spots him, stops, stares quizzically, head tilted to the right and then the left and then his wrinkled forehead clears and his big goofy Rocco face splits into a grin and there he goes, galloping over the rainbow bridge, his funny ears flapping. He reaches Ollie, they touch noses and Rocco starts dancing in circles around him. Ollie gives that world weary look of his, the look older brother get when dealing with annoying little brothers but Ollie's tail starts to wag faster and fater and soon they are racing over that bridge dancing through puddles and scrabling through bamboo and neither will be lonely for the other any more. My boys. One big, one small, forever together...brothers.