You were 9 years old Red, when in November 2014 an email arrived asking if someone would give you a forever home. I arranged to meet you and you agreed to come home with me.

We only had a year together, almost to the day. It was a great year for us both. You had the energy of a much younger dog, always ready for a long walk or a ride in the Jeep. You loved treats and would high five for them. We spent the summer by a lake in Maine. You liked to wade in the lake. I never did see you actually swim, desert dog. Squirrels were fun to chase. It was so funny to see you staring up at the tree, wondering where the squirrel went. You would go for a romp on the golf course when I wasn’t watching and I’d get a call. People knew who Red Dog’s person was. You had a habit of sneezing when you were excited. You got excited a lot. Then, in October, a small trickle of blood would sometimes accompany the sneeze. A CT scan showed a mass in your nasal cavity. A biopsy confirmed the worst. It was the demon cancer. Even Tufts University Vets couldn’t save you. At 10, you probably wouldn’t survive two rounds of radiation treatments. Too much anesthesia, too close to your brain they said. Best to let you enjoy life until it was time. On December 4, 2015, with your head resting in my lap, you journeyed to the Bridge.

You took a piece of my heart with you, good buddy, but that’s OK because you gave me all of yours.

Sadly missed, never forgotten,

Rich