Thyroid and kidney failure got the best of Fire on Monday, May 20, 2002. Rest in peace, my little Fireman.
Yes, he was named after the Grateful Dead song. And he was the younger brother of Scarlet Begonias.
Fire left us peacefully around 6pm, Monday, May 20, 2002. Our vet, Dr. Robin Hertel, came to our house and helped him on his way. We spent the weekend and all day today with Fire, alternating between crying and caring for him. But now we feel more peaceful than we expected to. We know we did the right thing to let Fire go now.
We adopted Fire when he was 6 months old. He was deemed unadoptable by a shelter and was on the euthanize list when Yankee Golden Retriever Rescue got him. They determined that he had a manageable case of megaesophagus. At the same time, we were looking for a playmate for Scarlet and contacted YGRR. He was the sweetest, most pitiful looking little guy. Scarlet liked him so we brought him home. He had a miserable first 6 months and needed lots of special care. But he was so happy to be living with us and his sister. He was smart and very loving. We rejoiced when we finally got him trained. And we rejoiced again when he got comfortable enough to let us rub his belly. That took a long time.
Over the years we got used to keeping dog towels available for his megaesophagus gacks. We loved watching him play with Scarlet. We lost Scarlet to cancer in 1994. Fire mourned her loss as much as we did. After a few months Buddy came to live with us. Fire loved stealing toys from Buddy and getting the ball away from Buddy and running all around the yard playing catch me if you can. Buddy is obsessed with tennis balls, Fire didn't really like tennis balls, but he loved stealing them and tormenting Buddy. When Buddy lost his balls in the snow, we'd send Fire out to find them. He always found them.
He loved sitting on the porch steps with Tom while Tom threw the ball for Buddy. He especially loved those special nights when Tom shared a little bit of his beer with him.
He greeted every day as a new opportunity. A new opportunity to get his bum scratched as Tom got dressed. A new opportunity to be the first one downstairs, and the first one out the door to chase the birds and squirrels. He loved chasing the mourning doves and crows from his yard.
Fire had the most beautiful smile. He was an imp. The class clown. He loved to sleep on our water bed, and would get right in the middle of the bed while we were brushing our teeth. It made it nearly impossible for us to get in bed. And he laughed at us while we tried to get in without disturbing him.
He knew when we were sad and snuggled up extra tight. He was a leaner. He'd lean so hard on our legs. And he often thought he was a lapdog. All 70 pounds of him.
There are no more pills, or yucky food, or needles, or sad people where he is now. And especially no gacking because his food and water didn't make it down to his stomach. And Scarlet is there. And they both know how much they are loved.
What we will miss most is his face poking in the doorway the minute we open it. Even in the last few days when he was struggling to get up, he'd hobble over to the basement door when we started up the stairs.
Fire will be cremated and we'll plant his ashes under a shrub or a tree. Something that captures his personality. Something with red flowers or leaves.
- Patti and Tom