A Dog and His Boy

My brother is losing his Best Friend today. Patches the Wonder Dog has been his constant companion for a while now... I forgot to ask how long. You just don't think of one without the other, and that's what makes a friend so true.

Patches was on death row when Monte found him. He'd been living in a kennel for over a year and was going to be put down. So Monte, who has the smooshiest heart for animals took him home. He saved Patches' life, and then Patches returned the favor.

My brother has had a hard row to hoe for so many years now. Some of those hard rows were brought about by poor choices, others were mistaken turns, but through every painful chapter there was a buddy to lean on, someone to listen without judgement, to lick away tears and pain and anger and frustration. I don't know if my brother would have always chosen to try again if it weren't for the fact that his Best Friend was counting on him.

Patches lived the best Dog's Life a dog can live... except he didn't know he was a dog. He had human-like eyes, and the patience of a saint. He could say "home" and "Gramma". He ate anything you put in front of him and he loved Gramma for her willingness to do just that. He disliked bare floors-- so Gramma put a trail of throw rugs down for him so he could come in the kitchen. He tolerated little nieces and little chihuahuas and never so much as rolled his eyes. He sported red and blue stars on the Fourth of July and a Mariner's collar during baseball seaon. He was my brother's co-pilot, and could also fill in as a coffee table.

I think some dogs are just eager to give everything they have to their boy, and Monte was glad to have every bit of it. In that way, Patches must have felt so grateful: To have been loved so deeply for just being who he was.

He came down with something last week that stopped him eating-- BIG clue! The vet determined it's cancer and rather than let him continue to fall into worsening health, he'll go to sleep in his boy's arms later today and be in a place without pain. There's already a hole dug in the yard here at Gramma's house, a place he dearly loved to visit. He'll lay on the top of the hill overlooking the water and the woods. The hole in my brother's heart will not be so easy to fill, however. Losing a friend is never easy.

Thanks, Patches, for loving my brother in a way no one else could. You're a Good Boy.