Thursday, September 16, 2010

Good Night, Ladd




The worst part about growing up with dogs is having to someday say goodbye.

We lost Ladd today. He was fourteen years old and he lived those years pretty well. I would try to claim that he was fourteen years young but the fact of the matter is that he lived an incredibly full life for a lab and he passed because it was time. I'm thankful that I'm not heartbroken because of tragedy and that Ladd lived the life that he did.

But that doesn't make it much easier to say goodbye and that doesn't mean that my heart isn't broken.

When we lost Keifer last year, I realized how much I had grown because of him and how much better I was about appreciating the dog that he was as we both got older and as I "grew up." Losing Ladd will be no exception. He was the first puppy that I got to grow up with and I remember in great detail that day that he came home with my dad. He was a small, yellow thing with a slightly terrified look on his face but it didn't take much time for him to feel right at home. Before long, he was chasing tennis balls across the living room and sliding past them and into the opposite wall because puppy paws don't provide much traction on hardwood floors.

Just like Keifer, Ladd was around for all of the years in which I was a juvenile, selfish, sometimes frustrated, and often confused teenager. I regret that Ladd sometimes caught the brunt of all of that but I'm thankful that he was just as forgiving and forgetful as his slightly younger counterpart. I don't think I ever really deserved his forgiveness but the beauty of dogs is that they are dedicated to you or your family through and through.

Ladd was certainly his own dog and that's what we loved about him. In his prime he had the most rock-solid butt of any lab I have ever seen and he chased tennis balls with reckless abandon and raw speed. He was notorious for sneaking food off of the counter if no one was in the kitchen with him and guilty more than a few times of snatching whole loaves of bread and devouring them in the backyard. He barked at hot air balloons, constantly pushed the door in to get back into the house if you forgot to lock it behind you, and was always looking for the golden opportunity to sneak out the front gate and go "dumpster diving" for an afternoon. I don't think we loved those things at the time but in hindsight we can't help but shake our heads and smile. There are just so many stories about Ladd but I suppose that should be a given with fourteen years to look back on.

You were a great dog, Laddy. Thanks for the years that you spent with us and thanks for being patient with me. I wish I had loved you a little better when I was younger but, just like with Keif, I'm glad I got to love you the way I did by the end.

I hope that garbage that you tore into just the other night was worth it and that you got your fill. I'm really going to miss you.
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3 comments:

Grace said...

So sad :( Another friend of mine just had his doggie pass on after 12 years. Ladd was a soldier for staying strong for 14 years!

Toby said...

Twelve years is a good long life, too! It's always so sad to see our canine friends go but when it's time, it's time. Just have to be glad when a dog gets to live his or her life out to the fullest.

jim emerson said...

Nicely done, Toby. I put up a picture of Ladd and Murphy from last year. I envy your 14 years with Laddy. I only got 8 with Frances, but I attribute the fact that I'm still alive to her!