THE DOG IN THE PARK

 They met at the dog park and became fast friends, while their human parents enjoyed visiting on benches while watching our dog babies play. The two balls of fluffy white fur frolicking in the park were a sight. He was a larger mini golden doodle than Paddy, meaning he weighed around 25 pounds compared to Paddy’s soaking-wet 17 pounds of love. I don’t remember the dog’s name, as it’s been seven years and many miles since that time. For whatever reason, the image of Paddy’s buddy and their days in the park keeps popping up in my memory this weekend.

 

We visited the dog park in Delray Beach at least twice a week, usually on weekends. It wasn’t long before I learned that their 2-year-old dog had cancer and would undergo chemotherapy to beat the dreaded diagnosis. They continued to bring him to the park, even though he began to move slowly.

 

After a few months, we entered the park gate, but Paddy’s buddy was nowhere around. Paddy even seemed confused as he kept looking all around for his friend. I suspected the worst and hoped for the best.

 

I noticed the dog’s human dad standing at the fence a few weeks later. His entire body language and facial expression were one of abject sadness as he slumped across the top of the fence. When I asked him about his dog, he tearfully shared that it had become very ill from the chemo, and they decided that the most humane course of action was to have him euthanized. He missed the dog more than he could imagine and felt some comfort in coming to the place his companion loved when he was healthy and robust. His wife never accompanied him because she couldn’t bear returning to the site that held such beautiful memories. Even now, I want to weep at the memory.

 

I saw the man several times after that, but he had already stopped coming before I left Florida a few years later. They planned to never own another dog again, as the pain of losing this one had been tremendous.

 

Most of us have gone through painful losses. It’s something I don’t want even to imagine now, although it’s likely that I will experience it again at some point. Every time I’ve lost a pet, I swore I’d never get another one, but the smell of a puppy and those adorable puppy kisses are irresistible. There are undoubtedly no humans who can match unconditional love. I also know without a doubt that we treat our canine companions better than we do humans. When our pets suffer too much, we ease them out of this world. We cannot make those kinds of decisions for the people we love.

 

I believe there’s an afterlife for us and our beloved pets. It comforts me that I’ll be reunited in some form or the other with all of them one day. Maybe there will be another time we will gather at the park to watch our canine babies rolling in the grass. I hope so.




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