Sir Winston

Sir Winston, My Love

We had the great fortune of your presence, your time and your love for a magical 2 years and 1 month. You had many more years prior to picking us and I don't know what those years were like for you as I can only guess. When I came across you, you could hardly stand, grossly underweight and had a collar on with what looked to be a tie-out line that had been cut. 

You were so happy to be with us (and us with you!)
at home on the farm 

We would work on increasing your weight and
help you get back up and moving again.

You stayed strong and true though it all - 
like the fighter you are 🏆

Your story we will never know. Did someone let you loose? Someone found out you had heart worms? Someone did not want you any longer? Someone was moving and could not take you? You were loved? Not loved? No matter the circumstances, it was now you and me, friend. A new season in your life would begin. 

All I know is when we found each other, you were lost. Lost and living outside for way too long. No longer able to forage food and obviously at the end of your ability to care for yourself. You were asking for help. I'll never forget that day. You became ours.

Not liking it when we had you neutered.....

You learned what toys were, and enjoyed
stuffed animals and not
live chickens

You'd wait for me to come home from work

You recovered in the laundry room

You begin moving about more and more

And often times, walked to the beat of 
your own drum

I always adored your greying eyebrows 

Even though your eyesight was if-y,
you knew where you were going

Your smile was my absolute favorite 💛

My old man - loyal beyond measure

I loved watching you move from being a stray to
being a dog who could feel safe - and enjoy
dog toys, the warm sun and love from others.

I know Winnie, I love you too 💙

You came to the farm barely able to stand, and walk only a few steps, and if any animal bumped you, you fell to the ground. This would take some time to nurse you back to Winston-Optimal health. You were first placed in a pen for observation, checked out by a vet who said you'd likely not live. As time went on, we realized even as an apparent outside dog, we needed to bring you inside for more recovery time. So in the laundry room with a bed, you went. You learned how to use the doggie door to go outside even though that in itself was a slow endeavor to move in and out of that said doggie door. One paw and leg. The other front paw and leg. A moment to breathe. With intention, you'd will your back legs through the doggie door in a clumsy yet successful manner. Almost falling out the other side of the doggie door into the outside world. You also learned that we were going to feed and love you. You learned to trust us and made our farm your furever home. I felt so blessed.

As time went on, you took up residence in the barn and had multiple dog beds from which to pick from for comfy resting. I remember how vocal you were, as if bossing (from a place of love) us around with your requested needs. I loved this about you as it created a relationship between us of being able to speak your needs and see that they could be met. You are one of the only dogs I've every had that would communicate directly to me what you needed. If I did not feed you on Winston-Time, you would vocalize your hunger and dinner request with a certain tone of one-two bark sequence. I knew the particular bark that said, "Hey Mom, I'm hungry early today." And the other bark that was asking for pets. And then another bark that said Hello! 

You did this.......until you no longer could.

Thanks for letting me try the pig dresses on 
you first, for fitting purposes

Your weight gain looked good on you

You showed the others how to be friendly 
at meal time.

My dear Winston, you may never know what a mainstay and much-loved-living being you were on the farm. A recognized fixture that gave people hope. An old man-dog who’s living out his life on his own terms finally finding where he fit in. Our missing puzzle piece. You'd move about at your own pace, knowing what you wanted and always did so in a slow and methodical way. You moved with intention, sometimes making a visit up to the pond or simply laying in the warm sun. You were different than all the rest which is what makes your leaving so hard. 

The barn became your home and safe place

You were always the first my eyes would
look for when I walked into the barn.
I needed to know you were okay, as
I worried about you each day. You were my
fragile one who could 'leave' me at anytime.

I no longer hear your random wolfhound, single bark - because it's what you do. I'm still listening for it, in case this is all a dream. I'm anticipating it, because it's part of the culture on the farm - and what my ears want to hear. It tells me you're there. And I'm now listening for it in my heart because my head reminds me that my ears will no longer hear your words.

When the vet told me of the cancer tumor on your paw, I was devastated. I wanted it to be just a toe nail that was falling out. When the vet told me of the crackling in your lungs, and your congestive heart failure, and the inability to care for the heart worms you'd likely had for much of your life, I still did not want to let you go. I know you could no longer get up and move around like you once did. You could no longer tell me what you needed. You handled the pain and suffering like the true champ you are, showing me how to be brave and strong until the bitter and beautiful end. You will be my example of how to learn to love again, how to take seconds chances in life, and be that mainstay for the others around you. Always being yourself - and loved for who you are. 

The vet was kind and understanding, and I could feel his eyes looking through me as he watched me cry while stroking your ears, touching your body and talking to you til you crossed the rainbow bridge. I wanted you to know I was with you the entire time, praying you felt safe as you traveled into your next season. I then gently closed your eyes with my trembling finger tips with blurred eyes full of tears, and a huge lump in my throat that would not allow anything except for sad moans and I love you’s. The heavy feeling of disbelief fell over me, realizing I would be leaving you too. We were not going back home together. 

A day forever etched in my heart.
Of love, of leaving, of healing.

This last season of 2 years and 1 month was not enough for me and yet I know I do not get to decide our time in this world. I kept you until I could not keep you anymore. I've loved you since I saw you. I knew you were mine to have and keep, care and nurture, and you gave me that back a thousand times over.

The farm seems so quiet today, and not because you were ever loud. But because your calming spirit now fills the farm. There's just something about you that's different than all the rest. My eyes filled with tears when you were not there when I went to the barn to feed this morning. I'm struggling with this. My heart aches as I watch the sun come up knowing you are not here. Why your loss hurts so much is indicative of all that you are, Winston. There will never be another like you. Thank you for finding me, and thank you God for allowing me to find you. When I step off the curb, I imaging you standing there, pain free. Smiling your smile. Barking your bark. Strong and free. Until then, my sweets. Until then.

You are forever loved.

    

Your smile. The very best.