Rex, a Eulogy
Rex came into our lives in March of 2009. In a room full of barking dogs at the Garland dog pound, he was the only one not barking.
We got him for our middle son, when he was in the fourth grade, who had had a gerbil until it had passed away. We surprised him by placing Rex in the powder room, and the telling him to go look. He opened the door, saw Rex, and closed it again, not sure what to make of the occupent. Rex was estimated to be 18 months old.
And so Rex stayed with my son until he went off to college. Rex was the kind of dog that wanted to be with you, but only had to be near you, not up in your face. He could lay on the cushion next to you, or in his bed nearby, just as easily as next to you on the couch.
His short legs meant he had to bounce up and down the stairs rather than glide the way his brother, Zero, was able to do.
When his human went to college, it took a little bit for Rex to adjust to the fact that he no longer had a bedroom to go up to. I would sometimes find him outside the door, waiting to be let in. But Rex would eventually accept being downstairs, especially with his brother, Zero, beside him.
Our history with Rex is that he was a two dog dog (his brother would have been OK being the only dog). The sudden decline of Zero in 2022 was once again confusing Rex, and it took a bit for him to get adjusted. In some ways I don’t think he ever did. During Covid, they went on a lot of walks, and it became a ritual of short-legged Rex to try to beat long-legged Zero to the house. After Zero had to be put to sleep, Rex continued to run home, expecting Zero to be inside.
We had contemplated getting another dog by then, but Rex was already showing signs of slowing down, and we couldn’t find a dog that Rex would be safe around.
In his final days he was so brave. We asked too much of him, and he was there for us. I should have been braver.
——
It’s been 24 hours now, and there’s a hole inside me where you used to be. There’s a hole in the space around me that I wish you were here to fill again.
You were the greatest of dogs. You put up with me being a human, and you heroically put up with pain as I was being selfish, holding onto you for longer than I should have. I’m so glad you were in my life, I just wish it were longer.
I love you. Tell Caramel and Zero I love them, too.