Anonymous Communist

Miles: Dec. 4, 1998-April 28, 2007.

Miles would have been 9 years old today.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the donation to Friend-in-Deed in his memory. He brightened my world for 8.5 years, and now he can help brighten someone else’s just a little bit.

Five days.

That’s all it took, from the time he was diagnosed to the time I came to the sad realization that I had to let him go.

It came down like a ton of bricks as I was leaving work Friday night. He had no chance of getting better, and he got a little bit worse every day. It was very difficult for him to walk, and although he would never admit it, he was in a great deal of pain.

There also had been a dark cloud over my family’s collective head since Monday, a cloud that would remain as long as Miles had to suffer.

As I lay sleepless in bed Friday night, I came to the agonizing conclusion that the worst was the unfortunate best for everyone involved. Better for me to make such a decision than the decision be made for me.

So after my sister brought my nieces over to say good-bye Saturday morning, I made the call to the vet. I managed to keep my composure until the time came to sign the release form. That’s when the gravity of the situation hit me: I literally was about to sign his life away. My stiff upper lip crumbled under the weight of a thousand tears.

Miles, though, was having none of it. After receiving the initial injection, he turned and began licking my face, as if he was trying to comfort me while saying good-bye.

And as silly as it sounds, the concept of Doggy Heaven also is comforting. For Miles, it would include ball-throwing sessions available 24 hours a day, unlimited use of the swimming pool and all-you-can-eat baby carrots. I know he’s enjoying himself up there.

I would like to thank everyone for their kind words and expressions of support. I was especially touched by the love shown by my family. My sister and nieces came by to bid their farewells. My mom asked to be present and was there to lend support to me and my wife in Miles’ final minutes. And my brother came by afterward to lend a shoulder.

I’d also like to thank Dr. Atkins and Dr. Minder and the staff at Animal Medical Clinic for their compassion Saturday and all the care they gave Miles throughout the years.

You’re a good boy, Miles. I’ll miss you.

I used to shout across the room to you
And you’d come dancin’ like a fool
Shuffle step, you funky mother
Come to me, all warm as covers

Rest with me, my lovely brother
For you see, there is no other
Memory so sad and sweet
I’ll see you soon, save me a seat

Well, I’m cryin’ now, my lovely man
Yes, I’m cryin’ now, and no one can
ever fill the hole you left, my man
I’ll see you later, my lovely man if I can

In my room I’m all alone
Waiting for you to get home
Listening to Roberta Flack
But I know you won’t come back

Well, I’m cryin’ now, my lovely man
Yes, I’m cryin’ now, and no one can
ever fill the hole you left, my man
I’ll see you later, my lovely man if I can

Just in case you never knew
I miss you, Slim, I love you too
See my heart, it’s black and blue
When I die, I will find you

“My Lovely Man,” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers

aka the Imperial Thugsta
aka the Large-Sized Poochie
aka the Jamaican Black Prince

Man’s BFF, on the real.