Rosemary came to us late September 2009, a thin, ragged, wormy girl who didn’t know “sit” and thought anything smaller than her was a raccoon, but she was dear and charming and we were taken in by her, completely, happy to whisk her away such a difficult previous life (she had been found tied to a pickup bumper during an animal control raid on a cat hoarder). Our other coonhound, Robert Gregory, found a playmate, and he would bite her ruff and she his long ears and they were in heaven. She learned her manners, grew a glorious soft coat and fattened up, and was a lover, the sweetest dog we’ve ever had. Everywhere we went people commented on that gorgeous hound dog, her prodigious ears and deep bass bark winners with everyone. The boys said she thought they were her puppies.

When she began having accidents in the house we thought it was a bladder infection. On January 11, it was confirmed by an oncology vet that Rosie had advanced bladder cancer, with four tumors. We put her on medication, started spoiling her like crazy, and were thankful for every day we had with her. She walked, hunted, played and snuggled. Every night she would visit the boys, looking at each bunk in their room, then coming to each side of the bed to touch us with her nose before nesting in her dog bed in our room. When she was allowed on the basement couch she was first in wonder, then thrilled to sprawl out on it and us, a 75-lb. lap dog.

On March 11, our beloved Rosemary passed away. That morning we had gone for a walk; she had woo-woo-ed me as I worked in my office, reminding me that that since I was home the coonies deserved more than a dog door and a yard. She played, ate well. We were grateful that it was sudden but we’re all devastated by her loss. We are reminded of her daily, but her loss is tempered by the memory of what the boys have declared “the best dog we’ve ever had.” We are grateful we were able to offer her comfort at the end of her hard life, and are grateful too for the gifts of love, loyalty, and grace she gave us. We will remember her always. I like best the explanation from our Buddhist friend, that Rosemary was just too evolved to stay a dog. We will always love her, no matter where she is.

Rosemary's Happy Ending Page

15 March 2010