Happy Birthday, Bubba

Today, August 25th, would have been Copper's 15th birthday.  On June 17th, we said good-bye to him, and sent him on his way to heaven. I haven't been able to bring myself to write about it until now.  I don't really know why, but there is something so very final when you put something down in words.  And even though I know his death is final, I simply couldn't write about it, until now.  I realize this means that I have a lot of catching up to do - we've been busy this summer - but first, I need to tell you about my sweet boy.

  
 One of the things our vet and pediatrician recommended that we do for Katelyn (to give her some closure) was to have a memorial service for Copper.  We planted a special flowering bush in our backyard and buried some of his ashes with it.  We each wrote a letter to him and read it to him.  Here's a little bit of mine.


My sweet Bubba, Copper-

I still remember the day we brought you home, almost 10 years ago.  You made Colorado feel like home.  You made Daddy and I a family long before you were the ring bearer in our wedding.  You were my pre-washer (just leave the dishwasher open and you'd lick everything you could reach!) and my vacuum.  I miss how you'd eat absolutely anything, including (and especially) baby spit-up - you made cleanup a lot easier for me.  I stepped on you several times a day as you followed me around the house because you couldn't stand to let me out of your sight for a single second.  I miss your uncanny ability to get in my way 27 times each time I vacuumed, like you knew exactly where I wanted to go and got there first. 

You were such a good dog to Katelyn and Mason.  Even when I was pregnant, you were more protective of me, and then protective of them once they arrived.  I love how you fell in love with Katelyn only when she started eating (and therefore dropping) solid food.  And I love how you fell in love with Mason the instant he came home because you knew your time with him was short.  I love that Katelyn's first laughs were because of you and Ali.  I love that you stayed here with us longer than you probably wanted to just so you could meet Mason and know that we would all be ok.  You dislocated Daddy's shoulder and broke your grandma's arm, but you were so gentle, sweet, and loving to both of our kids.  And here's something I've never admitted - I'm not even mad that Katelyn said "Bubba" before she said "Mama."

It was so hard to watch you deteriorate as you got older, and so difficult for me to come to terms with the knowledge that I was losing you.  But let me just say this - it was such an honor, truly, to take care of you in your old age.  I hope you look back on your life with us and say that we did right by you, that we gave you a good home.  Because you gave us so much more in return.  Thank you for loving me always and unconditionally, even when I wasn't holding food.  You were such a good dog, the best.  I will always remember you.  I miss you, Bubba, and I love you.

Here is part of Kenny's letter:

 You were the man of the house when I went away and the first one to stay in bed when "someone broke a window and was coming in the house." [This was really a glass falling off the dish drainer and breaking on the floor, but we didn't know that...]  You were my Jeeping companion, my camping buddy, and my friend on walks.  You always got up with me in the morning and would share my breakfast with me.  There isn't a poop or puke I picked up or a pee spot I cleaned that I would trade back, you were worth every single one.  Before we even had you, I knew you would be the first to go, I just didn't know it would be this hard to let you go.  As the cliche goes, "dog is man's best friend," I am so very proud to say you were mine.

 

And here is part of Katelyn's:

I miss you so much.  My favorite time with you was when I played frisbee with you.  And I also had a favorite time where you opened my presents on Christmas.  You were such a good dog for opening my presents with me.  I wish you could come back and eat our food again that we dropped on the floor.  I loved you more than anything I saw, just like my family.  You were a stuper-pendous good dog and I will sing my ABC's for you.

Love,
Katelyn  

 

We gave Copper a fantastic last day.  After his normal dog food breakfast, we made him bacon and eggs.  For lunch, he had mac and cheese.  Then Kenny grilled him a steak.  We took him for one last walk, came home and gave him his very own Starbucks cappuccino (vanilla, extra dry).  He drank the whole thing.  We showered him with hugs, kisses, and pets.  Our wonderful vet came to our house in the afternoon, and helped us lovingly and respectfully ease Copper's pain and send him to dog heaven.  His last moments were sweet, as he ate his favorite ice cream, and he died in my arms, with Kenny and I telling him what a good boy he was.  




We are all heartbroken, but healing, and I am so thankful that we were able to do all of this for Copper.  I am thankful that his last day was perfect, and that he was able to die here, in his home, with his family surrounding him.  We are sad, but ultimately, we feel so blessed to have had him be a part of our family for so long.

If you're still reading this, thank you.  To some people, a dog is just a dog.  To us, Copper was a member of our family.  We've been going through old pictures of Copper, and came across this - a video taken while we were attempting to take a picture for our Christmas card.  It made us laugh, and I hope it makes you smile too.