2016 is going to be a year of great change. The first change I have to make this year is adjusting to life without my Roscoe.
He was more than a dog, he was my closest friend, family and son. He was sensitive, gentle and loving to all. He was an 85 lb lap dog. Roscoe came into my life as a rescue from a litter of quarantined Rottie mixes who were born in the pound. He was the biggest and healthiest in the litter and minded his little siblings who were being treated for kennel cough. He was never any trouble. Never chewed or ruined my things or destroyed parts of the house (except for one window and it’s screen). He never barked at mailmen or servicemen much to my concern, but rather welcomed them in and got to know them. He was sensitive. When a fight would break out at the dog park, he’d walk away rather than run towards the fray. When he heard an argument in the house, he’d go into another room or outside. He was good-natured. When another dog would hump, he would let them for a while, then let them know when he’s had enough (or when it was his turn). But he wasn’t a wimp. He would defend himself when another dog attacked, but he wouldn’t be the instigator. He loved little dogs. He’d get down close to the floor for them and let them have their way with him, then roll over on his back and let them pounce. His best friends were one-fifth his size. He never nipped or bit. Not even at then end when he was in pain, as so often happens. Roscoe was the answer to my prayers. Easy-going, low maintenance and so good looking that he got attention wherever he went. These last 2 days, seeing his empty bed tears me pieces. His toys, his brush, his treats, his food, all rip at the hole in my heart. I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want to say goodbye. Ever. But the look in his soulful eyes told me he was in pain and wanted otherwise. The cancer quickly robbed him of the few joys he had in life. Dogs are our angels on earth and he was my light. I love you Roscoe with all my heart, my big handsome man and my baby forever.