Superdog |
Merry Christmas |
Despite having an aggressive form of nasal cancer, Banjo's spirit, her appetite, and her devotion proved utterly cancer proof. Not once in the two months that the cancer ravaged her nasal passages, did she refuse to eat a meal or treat, isolate herself from her family, or withhold a lick or snuggle. Even when the pain was obvious, which for Banjo must have meant quite severe, and the vet prescribed narcotics that should have made her loopy, she was still Banjo.
Banjo was not the first dog I ever had, but she was the first that was exactly what I had always wanted. I wanted a large dog. I wanted a Labrador. I wanted a dog that would fetch and swim. A dog that would stay with me off leash and come whenever I called, regardless of what else might seem more interesting. Banjo was all these things and so much more. She was by my side everyday for six years, ever faithful, ever adoring, and always Banjo.
Banjo was responsible for finding Leah, our German Shepherd. She once saved our dog Nikki, who passed several years ago, from a gigantic feral cat. She let my young daughters dress her up like a princess, and protected them from the evil squirrels that haunt our backyard. She became one of the main characters in the Scarlet Series I write and without her, the books would have never existed.
Disney Princess |
It is one of life's many sorrows that a dog's life is so much shorter than ours. Perhaps that is why they touch our hearts so deeply. A life time of devotion, caring, and love all concentrated in the space of of a decade. They mark the moments of our lives with the joy of their presence. They are there for us to cry on, to keep our secrets, to make us laugh. They teach us about loss and grief. They show us what it means to love unconditionally.
I remember the day I picked Banjo out of the litter. I saw her and she came over to me and I knew that this was the dog. My dog. I watched her like a hawk, afraid I might lose her in the sea of seemingly identical black puppies, but I never did. My daughter, only just over two years old, held her in the back of my Jeep and I asked her what we should name the puppy. She insisted that her name was Banjo. I reminded my little daughter that it was a girl puppy and she replied that she knew and her name was Banjo. And with that humorous moment and silly name, Banjo was a part of my growing family and forever a part of our hearts.
Three Amigos |
I love you Banjo. I'll miss you always.
Aww. Poor Banjo and poor you. My golden mix is laying at my feet right now as I write. We got her at a rescue shelter a few years ago, and she has been the best dog ever. I don't even want to think about what life will be like when she's gone. Hang in there.
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