8/1/88-5/6/06
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Riley was an amazing Dachshund. I was at an outdoor concert in Stewart Park in Roseburg, Oregon; RV full-timing with four little dogs. On my way back from a walk, I noticed a parked truck near my RV with the windows cracked just a bit, and Riley was inside. The temperature was like close to 90 degrees!
The cops noticed the situation, too; and called Animal Control. Meantime, Riley's owner came to the truck -- completely inebriated, and opened the door to the truck. The cops said, "You're in no condition to drive anything! How old is your dog?" (I had a bowl of water ready, which Riley drank so fast I was afraid he would choke or drown.) Riley was 15 at the time, and when the cop said, "Well, Animal Control is coming to get him, and they will "put him down," as no one will adopt a dog his age.
Riley's owner panicked, picked up Riley and brought him to me, saying, "Sarah, I'll do anything you want. He doesn't deserve to die because of my mistake. Please, take him!" I asked the cop if I could take the pooch, and he said, "It's up to you, ma'am."
So, for almost three years, Riley became a very close and loving member of my canine "family." Unfortunately, his teeth were horribly destroyed, he had ear mites, tape worm, etc. At the vet, all his problems were taken care of -- including shots -- but not his teeth, because I could not afford it.
Yet, Riley seemed to enjoy his life with us, on warm sunny days he would lie on his back and kick his short little legs in the air while wiggling his body. Had he lived until August, 2006, he would have been 18 years of age -- and didn't look it!
And what dignity and courage he had at the vet's. As we waited for the vet, I held him close to me on my lap. Riley turned his head, looked at me kindly, and licked my chin, as if to say, "It's okay. I love you."
I brought him home and buried him under a shady grove of trees. My other canines remained quiet as they huddled together two and three in a doggy bed meant for one. They were like that for three days. No playing rambunctiously their games of tug-of-war, or chasing, etc. Wanting them to know it was alright for them to mourn, I kept talking to them about Riley, saying I understood he was missed by them also, and that Riley deserved to be remembered in our hearts forever.
It was amazing to me, that even though I have five other canine babies (received a puppy for my birthday in March), the void left by Riley was immense. It was a sense of loneliness and emptiness that was indescribable. What supports me is that I know he is in a better place, free of all pain and at peace. I am forever grateful for the privilege of taking care of Riley for almost three years.
Yes, Riley, have a great time Over the Rainbow Bridge. I'll be looking for you, too.