me and the Boo Bear

Our family has a long history of pets. We are serious animal lovers. We have had the privilege of having our lives touched and enriched by so many critters over the years. However, I think that everyone in my family would agree that no animal has given us more joy, has made our family more complete than Boo. Now that he is gone, there is a very real hole in our lives.

I have been living thousands of miles away from home for the last four years. Accordingly, I have seen Boo once a year when visiting my family. And my parents got him long after I had flown the nest, so I do not have the bond with him that my parents had. And yet, I have had an easier time dealing with a human death in the family.

I think the reason that the death of a beloved dog tears us up so much is the nature of these creatures. They just want to love us, keep us safe, make us happy. We feed them and keep them warm and they give us more in return than we ever could have hoped for.

My parents rescued Boo from a terrible man. He was the runt of a litter of puppies, so he was underfed. He was filthy, living under an RV. He was constantly yelled at and kicked. My mother made it her mission to get that dog from that evil guy and she finally succeeded. When my parents finally moved into the house they built out in the country, they had themselves a border collie on guard.

Boo was a very protective dog by nature. Because he was a border collie, he had a natural instinct to herd. He made sure all of the smaller dogs we had over the years maintained a safe distance from the house. Where my parents live, small dogs are often scooped up by chicken hawks, much like rodents. But Boo was ever-watchful.

And it wasn’t just the other dogs that he herded. He herded the little kids, too. My niece, Ashlyn, used to complain that Boo wouldn’t let her go farther than a certain tree in their yard. Boo had marked off the safety boundaries in his mind and he took it upon himself to make sure no child crossed them. If a kid managed to make it too far down the driveway, Boo would rush to them and corral them with his body and begin to push them back with his nose.

As much as I loved and will miss Boo, I cannot begin to imagine how my mother is suffering is loss now. She was her most faithful companion.
As I mentioned before, my parents live in the sticks. My mother is alone most of the day and that can be scary if, say, there’s bad weather. They frequently get hit with major thunderstorms, for example, and the power often goes out. And if my father hapens to go out of town, the house feels too big for her. And Boo has always faithfully follwed her around the house, sitting at her feet while she works in her craft room; just generally keeping an eye on her.

He may have even saved her life once or twice. A few years ago, my mother had called for a plumber. When the truck parked in the driveway, Boo ran out to see who had arrived. The first man got out of the driver’s seat and Boo was fine with that. But for some reason, when the other man tried to get out, Boo went ballistic. He threw himself at the door, blocking the man from getting out. He barked and bared his fangs (something he never did normally) and made a very big scene.
My mom came out to see what the racket was all about. The man said, “Ma’am, your dog doesn’t seem to want me to get out of the truck.” And my mom said, “Then I guess you’re not going to.” I believe he ended up having to leave the property altogether.
It’s obvious that Boo sensed that man was trouble. It’s plain that he felt he needed to protect my mother from that man. The fact that animals can have such a sixth sense about people proves what amazing creatures they really are.

My personal favorite memory of Boo was how he acted as my pillow. Whenever I came home for Christmas, one of the first things I would do after settling in would be to get down on the floor with Boo. He would roll over to his side and let me use his giant chest as a pillow. I would often fall asleep to the sound of his easy breath, his rib cage expanding, and one paw lazily dropped over me.

He was a gentle giant if I ever knew one. The younger kids used to try to ride him like a horse, pull on his tail, and he never so much as snapped at any of them.

He was also incredibly smart and looked at us as though he understood everything we were saying. Often when my mother was upset about something, he would put a paw on her and sometimes even lay his head in her lap. Animals seem to have an uncanny way of gauging our feelings.
He even did a few tricks, but the one that always freaked me out the most was how they taught him to say, “Mama.” He said it clear as a bell. It was disturbing, even.
One morning, my mom was trying to sleep in, but Boo decided he wanted his breakfast. He used his head to open the door and he announced to them very loudly, “MAMA!” Someone got right up after that.

Every Christmas, and this is my last memory of Boo, he would lay in the middle of the living room floor as we unwrapped presents. We would throw the wrapping paper on top of him, even affixing bows to him, and he would just lay there, lapping up the attention.

Boo the Christmas Elf

He died the best way a dog can. My parents has gone to the Hocking Hills (a beautiful state park in Ohio) for a weekend retreat with their friends. Boo fell asleep under a tree, with a full belly, surrounded by the people he loved, and he never woke up. My father took him home and buried him in the woods by the fire pit, one of his favorite places in the world.

There will never be another Boo. The only thing sadder than that, for me, is to think of our lives had we never known him in the first place.

The following is Mumsy’s eulogy:

In loving memory of:
Boozer aka Boo Boy
Jan 4 1997 – Sept 5 2009

We have lost a much beloved member
of our family. Our lives were so much richer
for having known his loving and loyal friendship.
Boo was the best dog in the whole world and we
will feel the hole in our hearts that he filled forever.
Rest in Peace my precious Boo Boy!

Ashlyn and Boo