This morning I didn’t have to move the cereal bowls from the counter top. I didn’t have to rush to turn off the alarm. I didn’t have to move out of the way on the stairs to let him pass. Kane was not here this morning.
This is a tribute to my dog, Kane.
Like most good dogs, Kane was in every photo, every video. He insisted he was one of my children. He went through every milestone with us and his presence was always felt.
He was with us during the most difficult time of my life when we struggled for three years to get pregnant. He took long walks with me after my treatments and kept me company when I was too sad to leave my house.
His life documents my children’s’ babyhood to kid-hood. It was the most momentous time of my life and he was there for every single minute.
He was there when we finally became pregnant…and I couldn’t move at the end.
He welcome Baby Greta home.
We took our walks with our new baby.
Kane was Greta’s first friend and the first word she said. “Ka, Ka, Ka”
He welcomed every baby home from the hospital.
He drove me bananas when he ate the dinner of the counter that I had made. He woke up babies. He charged the door to every guest. He cleaned up under the highchair. He stood guard at the front door for 12 years.
He also expanded my tolerance for chaos. He broadened my idea of a full, family life.
He let my kids dress him up, lay on him, pull him, ride him. They learned from him how not to be afraid of big animals. They learned that to care for a dog is a great responsibility.
Kane was embedded in the landscape of our home. He was a living, breathing fixture. He was part of the home and the furniture and the walls and the kitchen.
He was impossible. He was happy. He was constant. He was big. He was always there. He never missed an important event in our lives. He had nothing else to do, but to be present to us. To me. He was a sidekick when I didn’t always want a sidekick. He was a protector against squirrels and leaves and that darn mail woman. He was the best vacuum cleaner and at the end of a very long day chasing kids, he was a footrest. Because he was just there. Always there.
Kane, you are family. You will be missed. Godspeed, old friend.