All Dogs Go to Heaven...

and Sable is now their God. I want to remember my dog for the almost 12 years of good that I had her, not the couple of weeks of bad that finally took her. I remember, clear as day, walking up to the front door of the house where she was born. There were three black Labs, all females, still left from the litter. The owner had just put down a giant pan of food and two of the puppies jumped right in, completely ignoring me. Sable was the only one who glanced away from the food, looked at me, and wandered up to me, her tail wagging. I took her home that day. She was 8 weeks ago, full of piss and vinegar (the first of which was hardly dribbled on my carpet--it felt like she was housebroken in a day). She was just the smartest dog. Chris's dad, Big Mike, used to say "other dogs will bring the paper to you. Sable will read it for you". I taught her to shake, sit, lay down, and speak. Timmy taught her how to use her "indoor voice", a low growl/bark that always got her a "good girl!" and treat. The dog knew English as well. She had a look for when you said "outside, food, treat, ball, or dinner". She trained like a dream. I take the credit for making her the great dog she was, but really, she was just always that great. She will be sorely missed. Tim and I remind ourselves that keeping her here--sore, tired, half blind, unable to walk, and unwilling to eat--is cruel. She is in a better place for her, where she can go after all the tennis balls that get thrown off docks and all the ducks that get shot out of the sky. She is now sleeping in the ivy, her favorite lounging area of the yard. As Caroline said so sweetly last night "She's going to go to sleep for the rest of her life?" Yes, and our memories of her will never fade. Soon, I won't tear up every time I think of her. I will laugh a little or smile, remembering how she always pretended that she wasn't on the couch when I got home from work, even with the pile of dog hair on the cushions. Or how she loved to roll on her back, place her paws on either side of her face, and meditate. Or how Garrett used to walk her down to the pond behind our house, throw the stick for her, and then give her a bath when he brought her back. Or the days that she would see Timmy the Giant and me in a full size bed, and without thought or reason, heave herself into the middle of it. She was my first born. Way before there was a husband, two kids, an exhusband, another husband, and a baby on the way, there was Sable. My first baby girl. Her signature pose: "curious dog head".

Her favorite spot: the ivy

Yesterday. She still had her perky moments.

The kids and Sable, before we gave them the news. They knew she was sick, but they didn't know she wasn't getting better.

Caroline insisted on sleeping with Sable when she got the news. This shot was taken right before we left for school. Caroline said her goodbyes, then just had a quiet moment with her dog.

Before we left for the vet. Sable gave us a look that said she knew. I love her for letting us let her go.