Well, just when I thought this week couldn't get any more fucked up…
Bailey Bulldog is dead.
He died sometime Thursday morning, in his sleep, at the incredible (for a Bulldog) age of 13.
He was a rescue. His owner died from cancer, and for some reason his kids didn't want Bailey. Barbara and I drove to Tulsa to pick him up. He lived in his forever home with us for 6 years. Unlike a lot of rescue bullies, there was nothing horribly (and expensively) wrong with him physically – he just kept going and going. He had started going downhill the last week, not eating, sleeping 98% of the time instead of the normal 80%, having the occasional accident (which he typically never did). We knew he was at the end of the trail. He was asleep in his crate just like any other morning, except that when I went to let him out, his perpetually-sticking-out tongue was purple, and I realized that he wouldn't be getting up any more.
I know this was the best possible scenario for him to check out, but that doesn't help much.
Bailey –
He was unobtrusive, but omnipresent. His favourite seat by the living room fireplace, his preferred spot in the studio – they are very empty places now. Bailey never demanded attention (unlike a certain Brillo beast), but patiently followed from room to room to be your silent companion. Thick as a brick, deaf as a post, and incapable of going from one room to another without "stalling out" – until his pea brain finally remembered where he had set out for – he was all of these things.
He was also noble, uncomplaining, and the best petting dog I have ever seen. It was like petting a fire hydrant with a fur coat on. And when he was petted, the stumpy ears would go all the way back, and the chin would go straight up, and his little eyes would close in esctasy.
.
He hated the outdoors, and only went out to do his business or drink (we kept his water bowl outside because of the godawful dribbling mess he made after getting those chops good and wet – we called him "Tom Drooley" after getting his Big Drink). Then it was back into the comfort of the A/C and his people.
.
He looked like a cartoon Bulldog, all chest, shoulders, and head (no neck), and not much else – but he also had the biggest heart I've ever encountered.
.
He was our Big Buddy.
No nose. At all. No neck, either,
Barbara discovers a smoosh face on her side of the couch
Bailey, in a rare trip to the front yard. Bulldog on guard!
His favourite spot in the living room
I get some equal smoosh face time…..
Can we come in NOW? PLEASE?
His other favourite spot – in the studio in front of one of the P.A. speakers, softly snoring….
Always happy to be with us…
Bye, big boy – we'll miss you.
So sorry for your loss. He had a good life with you and many happy times.
It doesn’t help now, but it will someday, that he was loved and he clearly, clearly knew it.
I’m so sorry. This fucking sucks.
A.
Sorry about Bailey. Echoing what A said, looks like he was usually smiling. What a good boy.
I’m so sorry.
I don’t know you and likely never will but you and Barbara have hearts of gold. Baily won the lottery the day you both went and picked him up. All three of your lives changed for the better! Bailey joins many fine dogs at the rainbow bridge. The fact that you rescue animals shows you have an unbounded heart. The world is better off with folks like you and Barbara. On a side note thank you for having this blog I am a frequent reader of your work.
Roy Greene
I’m sorry for your loss but glad that you both had someone to share some quality time with on this planet. You made his life better and he made yours better. Can any of us ask for more from our lives than to do that?
So sorry for your loss.
That he clearly adored your family, and was adored right back, and had the good luck to slip away peacefully, can’t take away the hurt, but I hope it eases it for you.
Awwwwww….so sorry. I’ll echo what everyone else said–you gave him 6 good, sweet years and he gave you the same. Precious gifts.
Tommy T:
As a regular reader and dog lover, I am terribly sorry for your loss. But the post was actually a wonderful reminder about good people who take in rescue dogs, and the mutual life enrichment of caring owners and delightful animals.
I don’t think I have ever seen a more bulldog-y bulldog than yours. The underbite smile: that dog knew he was loved, and loved you back.
-SG
P.S. A minor suggestion: Take the Freeperati out of the post title. Bailey was a better, kinder being than that bunch, and he deserves his own, Freeperati-free tribute.
It’s been several years since I’ve posted a comment here, even though I’ve been avidly following your weekly obsession all this time.
But I had to add to everyone else’s comments: I am so sorry for your loss, but need you to know that you’ve done right by The Universe in choosing a Rescue and loving him so dearly until he “retired” in the very best possible way.
The Earth is greater for this one act alone than it would have been had you never acted at all.
Bailey was so clearly, so obviously, loved and cherished. And as the proud staff member of a 16yr-old St Bernard/German Shepherd mix, I am dreading that all too soon day that I will be joining you in grief and sorrow. Please know that the homage you’ve done Bailey this day is inspiration and consolation for when I join you in this time of struggle. Thank you, so much, for sharing this moment with us.
(Pro-tip: Get another rescue NOW! It won’t ease the pain, but it will at least distract you until the pain becomes bearable.)
Thank you all – you have no idea how much your kind words mean to Barbara and me.
Tommy
Tommy T, Thank you for loving Bailey so long and so well. He knew. He loved you back, too.
my elderly cat died in my arms the day i decided to take him to the vet for youth in asia. i guess that could be better or worse.
Tears for you and your family. Dogs are the best.