The worst part of having a dog and loving that dog is that they will more than likely die before you. Fergus, out big black dog with a gentle soul died last night.
Fergus was 13 years old. He was a dog that my step daughter, Liz, rescued as a puppy. Fergus was always her special dog but Fergus lived with us for most of his years, as Liz was either away or living in an apartment. The house is more empty right now, with fewer dogs to step over. I’m sure our other 2 dogs are missing him as well.
Fergus’s vet described him as “a gentleman of the highest order” and that is the a perfect description of him. Fergus was a gentle, easy going dog. He wasn’t easily rattled. Zara, my lively energetic dog would nip at his legs to get him to play and he put up with her. He rarely got angry with her, but when he did, she listened. He had that kind of presence.
It is never easy losing a dog. Fergus had been diagnosed with cancer a few months ago and we knew his time was limited, but it is still a shock to lose him.
We believe that Fergus will join all of the other dogs that John and I have lost, crossing the rainbow bridge and free to run after squirrels while free of pain. Rest in Peace Fergus.