Goodbye, Good Boy

This morning we made the hardest decision we’ve had to make in a long time, and say goodbye to our son, our brother, our friend; Crash.

Crash Taylor Gilbert (aka Crashy Washy, Booger T. Washy, Manila Ice, Crashy D. Dog, or simply Buddy) joined us in April of 2009 as a 20lb, 3-month-old Golden Retriever (presumed mix) puppy.

We thought he was so big, and I doubt we fully comprehended just how big he would grow to be. At his last weigh-in he clocked the scales at 115lb.

Crash was, in many ways, our first kid. We’d been married nearly a year when he arrived in our lives. He was our only living responsibility for over six years. Through thick and through thin, he was there for us and we were there for him.

In 2015 that changed, we brought our first human child into the world, and Crash’s role changed too — from Only Child to Big Brother. We were cautiously optimistic; Iva wasn’t the first child that Crash had been with, and we were confident that we’d trained him to be a gentle friend — possibly even too gentle. But there was still some apprehension that he’d react badly to Iva’s presence in His Domain.

That apprehension proved unnecessary. He became Iva’s best friend and protector. He slept by her side in the early days, and showed a great interest in the well-being of the Tiny Human. The love was eventually reciprocated, once Iva was old enough – she would sit beside him and read, she would give him great big hugs, or just climb on her big brother (no matter how much we tried to stop her).

A couple of weeks ago we took Crash to the vet. He had been limping on his back leg for a few weeks, and showing signs of pain. Iva spent a lot of time with him in the room on that visit, saying comforting things to her doggy buddy like “it’s OK, Crashy” and “don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

We thought Crash was on the mend. He’d been given a two-week regimen of pain medication, and he responded well to it. On Sunday that two weeks ended, and we took him for a follow-up where he was given a couple of vaccines and a positive outlook. We had a prescription for a new pain medication and instructions to start it after about a week.

Unfortunately, over the last couple of days he deteriorated. We thought it might have been a reaction to one of the vaccines after some friends with expertise suggested it. They recommended we give him a couple of days and he should be alright.

He showed significant discomfort yesterday, and wouldn’t get up even for a treat when we tried to get him to go potty last night. This morning he didn’t want to move at all, and was not at all himself. We had to take Iva to her doctor, so we left to take care of her and when we returned and found he hadn’t moved, to the vet we went with haste. We had to carry him to the car, but still expecting that it was a vaccine reaction we assumed that perhaps with some fluids he would pull through and walk back out later today.

It was not to be. The vet suggested that a tumor had burst in his belly, and he would either need to have emergency surgery or to be allowed to go peacefully. We asked a few questions about his survival chances, the risks involved, and determined that the best decision for Crash was the hardest one for us. We let him go.

I don’t think Iva fully understands exactly what happened, but we’re glad that she was there to say her goodbyes as well. She was very much a trooper, dabbing our eyes with tissues, and even placed her toy band-aid on his leg and held it before the vet administered the drugs.

Through years of change, Crash was the one who was always there, waiting at the door of wherever we called home in that moment. He laid paw in at least four states (VA, WV, MD, and NC), and traveled thousands of miles in our regular treks between Reston and Broadway, as well as adventuring across Virginia and Maryland on our trips to the beach. He enjoyed riding in the back of Grandpa’s truck, and made himself a spot in the tiny Honda Accord coupe.

Crash was amazingly loyal, ever-energetic, and terrible at fetch. He loved riding in the car (he rode in all 9 cars we’ve owned during his lifetime, in addition to those of others), and he hated both motorcycles and tractors with a passion. He enjoyed getting wet and muddy, but barely tolerated being bathed. He truly was Man’s Best Friend, and he will be sorely missed in our home and in our minds for many days, months, and years to come.

Goodbye, Buddy. Goodbye, best dog ever. Goodbye, Crash.

Our many thanks to the veterinary team at Banfield Animal Hospital in Reston. You helped us take great care of Crash over the last few years, and you brought us comfort on the worst day we’ve had in a very long time. You rested our minds that our decision was the best one, and you made the experience just a little bit bearable. We won’t see you again for a while, but if (nay, when) we are ready to take on the responsibility of another pet, we will be sure to utilize your services once more.