Remembering Our Friend

Our family had a rough week. One which we have long known would come, but hoped it somehow would not.

Recently my dad and I decided that our beloved friend and companion Rosco had reached the point where his suffering outweighed his happiness. He was diagnosed with bone cancer in his right front leg about a year and a half ago and due to extra stress, developed arthritis in his "good" leg. In the last few months his discomfort grew quite a bit and he really just laid around the last few weeks. After twelve years of his constant presence in our family, we had to let Rosco go.

I understand that to some, dogs are just animals and that it is silly to be saddened at their loss. To our family, Rosco was no less a member of the family than any of us. I wanted to share my thoughts of the importance Rosco has had in my life and in my family's life.

When Rosco was born, his mother buried most of his siblings and only he and two sisters survived. My sister and I had to walk from her house in Antelope two or three blocks every 4 hours for about a week to make his mother feed the puppies. The constant care he required should have been an indication of how central he would become in my life.

Rosco was not the cutest of puppies. His nose and paws were much too large for his body. So much so that my sister and her husband tried to get me to take one of the sisters rather than Rosco, but my mind was made up. Soon he grew into his features and became one of the most handsome dogs I’ve seen. His sisters on the other hand grew up to be not so great looking dogs. He was a slow developer, but was truly the best of the litter.

While I have always been Rosco's master, my dad without question has always been Rosco's favorite. Their calm, gentle natures created their love for each other. On each and every night of Rosco's life in our home, Rosco would start getting antsy around 7:30 or so and would start jumping on my dad to get him to take him on his nightly walk. It didn't matter if I had taken him just an hour before, or if it was raining, or if my dad had not gotten home until after midnight, Rosco and my dad would set off for their walk. My dad has spent over 4000 nights during Rosco’s twelve years walking him around the block. His patience and love for Rosco was repaid by unwavering loyalty and love from a dog.

One night Rosco’s leash was on him, but my dad got sidetracked. Growing tired of waiting, Rosco put his leash in his mouth and set off on his normal walk by himself. I can't imagine what the neighbors must have thought as he walked himself around the block on his normal route. However on Thursday, Rosco did not want to go for his walk giving my dad the final sign that it was time to let him go.

On another night my toddler nephew Matthew accompanied Rosco and dad on their walk. About half-way around the block, three roaming dogs circled to attack my dad and Matthew. Gentle sweet Rosco continuously circled my dad and nephew fighting off the three dogs until neighbors came to their aid. Despite his large stature, Rosco was the most gentle off dogs, but as we found out would do anything to protect his family.

The children in our family loved Rosco. They would chase him, jump on him, ride him, sleep on him and loved to feed him. Once when Matthew was a year old or so, he had food in his hand to feed Rosco. His entire arm disappeared into Rosco's mouth and when he finally pulled his hand from Rosco's jowls, the food was gone and Matthew's arm was unharmed. Other than maybe accidentally knocking one over, Rosco never in his life did anything to hurt any of the grandkids despite their torment of him. He was truly a gentle giant.

My parents have their grandkids over nearly every Friday night. I came home late one night and found the kids running wild with my dad, mom and of course Rosco asleep amidst the chaos. I can’t help but laugh every time I see the picture of he and my mom asleep on the kids’ bed.

Rosco was a very obedient and well-trained dog. Other than my bed, he never was allowed on any furniture and never broke that rule. Once when he stayed with Chelsey and I, he had been snoring a little so we pushed him out of our room and closed the door. In doing so, we did not put his bed out for him so when we woke the next morning we found him on our couch looking at us as if asking what was he supposed to do, we forgot his bed. It was absolutely hilarious and one of those memories that sums up his position in our family.

Despite my amusement, Rosco hated having things put on him. When I put a hat on him, he hated it, when I put a tie on him, he hated it, when I cut a hole in a pair of shorts for his tail to go through, then put the shorts on him, he hated it, when I made glasses out of pipe-cleaner, he really hated it. When I put a birthday hat on him for his first birthday, well he didn't mind all that much because he started eating the cake!! Sure he hated these activities, but he endured long enough for a picture and never even bit me.

One thing he always did wear was his collar. I would tease him by taking it off and he would get all upset. This quirk entertained me his whole life as I teased the poor pooch. When my dad took him in to be put down, I wanted to make sure they did not take his collar off until he was gone, because I knew if they took it from him he would be very upset. I was glad to know that my dad made sure that they did not take his collar from him.

Rosco hated suitcases. Whenever we started to pack to go anywhere, Rosco would noticeably begin to mope around. He would lay right in the middle of the hallway and sleep the day away as we packed. When I began to pack to leave on my mission, he plopped himself down next to the fireplace and put his head on the hearth. Truly a pathetic pooch!!

Rosco went camping when we went with Chelsey’s family. Sure he loved swimming and marking the forest, but he spent most of his time staring at Chelsey’s mom preparing each meal. He loved to eat. He loved the kids’ table at family dinners because he knew chances were good that somebody was going to accidentally drop their plate on the ground.

Rosco could be on the opposite side of the house and would hear my mom open her favorite snack of breadsticks and cheese. No matter what he was doing or how much pain he was in, he would run to the kitchen to get his share of the snack. My mom has mentioned that it has made her sad to open the breadsticks and not have Rosco quickly join her to help her eat the breadsticks which do not have quite enough salt for her tastes.

I am so grateful for Rosco. Along with Chelsey and my family, we have mourned his passing. I have cried a little less each day, but I think there will be a bit of sadness in our family for weeks to come. I thought for a moment that I wish I could just get over my sadness but honestly, I’m okay with it and enjoy thinking of my good friend.

There will be more dogs and more heartbreaks, but Rosco will always hold a special place in the hearts of those who loved him. I am grateful that I will see Rosco again and look forward to that day. I am thankful to my sister, whose dog Howie was Rosco’s father, for giving me Rosco. I can’t fully express my appreciation for my dad who has been Rosco’s caretaker for 12 years and who was with him until the very end. I will never forget his devotion to my friend. I share my dad’s sadness but find happiness reliving memories of the greatest dog ever.