The Day Rosie Died

It was a day like any other day. I was at the house and I got a phone call from the HVAC repair man that was working outside. He said, 'you need to come and get your dogs, something is wrong.' I slowly got up and headed to the door. When I stepped outside, my pace quickened immediately.

Something was really wrong…

Connor and Rosie were frothing at the mouth, collapsing to the ground, struggling to get up. Without really thinking, I picked up Connor and put him in the back of the car, Rosie was next and off I went.

It was all subconscious, second nature. I drove as fast as I could and the first place we went to couldn't help. The next place I went was a half hour away. Rosie didn't have that much time. She died along the way. When she died, Connor immediately knew. His demeanor changed and he just looked sad.

But I didn't have time to be sad, Connor was still in trouble. I was driving intently. Focused on the road and the traffic.

When we got there, it was easy to confirm that Rosie was gone. I got Connor inside and then went to sit next to Rosie on the concrete. I didn't want her to be alone. I know that's weird, but I had to say goodbye to her.

We had only had Rosie about 5 months but she was so sweet. She slept in my bed, on top of me, sometimes literally but she always had to be touching someone.

She lived unconditionally and she loved unconditionally. Both dogs had stumbled upon poison. Connor made it, Rosie wasn't so lucky. But that was Rosie! She was always into things, most of them she shouldn't have touched, but she did anyway.

She didn't care.

I imagine that this is the way she would have wanted to die…I imagine that this is the way everyone would want to die. Not the cause of death but the way of death. I want to live and die like Rosie did… Authentically!

I learned so much from that dog in the short time we had her and here's what I know for sure. She came up to me when she wanted to go outside and I was working at my desk. She climbed up on my lap (45 lb lapdog) and I petted her head. Then I put her down and she laid her head on my lap and fell asleep standing up. She fell over because, you know, you can't sleep standing up as a general rule.

When she realized she fell over, she got up and tried again. She came back over to me and placed her head on my lap, undeterred by the fall.

I stopped what I was doing and loved on her. I kissed her head and told her she was a good girl. I put my forehead to hers, looked her in her eyes and told her I loved her.

The next time I would see her she was already dying.

It's only been a couple of weeks but the emotional transformation has been enlightening.

The first day I cried when I thought of it or thought of her. By the end of the day, that same day, I could smile and now I can laugh, smile and cry.

In everything terrible, there is something great. It's hard to find the "spin" in an unexpected, tragic death, but here's my take on this particular spin.

And, this is why Rosie dying leaves behind a lesson we should all learn.

Rosie died as she lived. She never compromised. In the last moments of her life, I broke from my routine and gave her a piece of the unconditional love she always showed me. I told her I loved her. I did everything I could to save her life. She gave me and my boys memories that will never go away of a dog, no, a spirit that went away too soon.

The lesson: Take the time. Share unconditional love. Remember the good times and let them replace the bad times. Most importantly, be who you are and live with the authenticity and confidence that Rosie exemplified.

Thank you Rosie. Thank you, my sweet girl for everything you taught me. I will honor you by continuing to live, cherishing the time I have with the people who I cherish.

Smart dog, that Rosie.