An Old Friend

She was a good dog. She was a good dog that we loved for almost 18 years. She was a troublesome pup, a sweet dog, a life-saver, and a loyal friend. My dad loved her and adored her. We all did. But we had to say goodbye to a dear, dear friend today.

Babe had gotten very sick the last year of her life. It was hard to see her in such pain, but she was a trooper until the end. Her many years of chasing cattle and chewing bones ended today as her tired, old body couldn't keep up with her puppy heart.

Here's a story that I wrote about Babe last fall.

* * *
It was so comfortable lying on this bench. It was Babe’s favorite spot to while away the day. There she lay, head on her front paws, her tail wagging lazily in the Iowa breeze. She gazed over the landscape before her, her eyes roving over the large, round-topped barn, plastic fence, and creaky swing set in the backyard. She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. Babe thumped her tail on the worn, canvas bench seat. The edges were frayed from countless chewing and ripping with her claws. There was a nice worn spot in the middle cushion that was her favorite spot to lie.
Just as she was drifting off to dreams, she heard a whistle and a shout. Babe’s ears immediately perked up, and her tail began to wag furiously.
“Yeah, Babe, come on! It’s time for chores!” Brian yelled at her.
Babe sat up, her girth falling to the earth in folds beneath her as a result of gravity. She lazily slid off of the bench and slowly trotted over to the side of her master. Sitting crookedly, leaning on one paw, she gave her most pathetic brown-eyed gaze to her owner.
“Come on, girl, you won’t get off that easy today,” Brian scolded her, but softening, and giving her a pat on the head, “We’ve got a busy day today. How about you come in the truck with me?” Brian pulled open the squeaky white door of his Ford truck and patted the cracked leather seat. Babe wagged her tail, and jumped up into the truck with a wheeze and a grunt. It was getting harder to move every day. Brian slammed the door shut, climbed into the driver’s side, and gave Babe another pat on the head.
“You’re a good dog, Babe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
* * *

We'll live without her, but she will always be missed. She holds a place in all of our hearts, as well as in our flower bed. Thanks for all of the years and memories, Babe, my babygirl!