Today, we said goodbye to our sweet boy, Belson.
He was nearly sixteen, and although his spirit remained gentle, his body was tired. Dementia had set in, along with blindness and deafness. After he fell into the pool a few months ago, worrying about him became a constant weight for Dennis—waking up afraid for his safety, wondering where he had wandered off to. In his final days, Belson couldn't find rest. He would pace in and out, hiding in my closet or under the bed. We couldn’t tell if he was lost in the confusion of his age or simply seeking a quiet place to be alone.
It feels like yesterday that he came into our lives. On June 14, 2010, I went to Walmart in Guymon looking for a birthday gift for Matthew, who was turning fifteen. I had no idea what to get him until I saw a lady with a cage of puppies. I fell in love with Belson instantly. Even though someone else was holding him, I knew he was meant to be ours. I told the lady I wanted him right then and there—I didn't even care what Dennis would say! My only regret is that I didn't bring his sister home, too.
When I got home, Matthew was still asleep. I placed this tiny, sniffing puppy in his bed. When Matthew woke up, I shouted, "Happy Birthday!"
He looked at the puppy and asked, "Is he mine???"
"Yes!!"
"Does Dad know??"
"NO!"
"Oh, snap!" Matthew laughed.
It took him two days to find the perfect name.
Belson was truly amazing. He was a little black and white puppy with a white tip on his tail—I used to spot that white tip bobbing over the shrubs in the yard. I remember when he was learning to use the doggy door; he’d sit right in the middle, refusing to let Alex, our other dog, pass through. And when he was finding his voice, he'd scare himself with a loud bark and run back to the house for safety.
He loved to bury himself in the middle of the bed for naps, and when the kids found him, they would shower him with love. He was incredibly fast, too. He loved fetch so much that once he knew where you were throwing the ball, he’d race to the spot before it even bounced.
He cherished a good stick. He’d growl possessively if you even looked at him while he chewed on one. I used to think it was funny to tease him, though Dennis always told me to let him be.
He was so smart. I could ask him, "Where's your ball?" and he’d bring it to me. If I asked where the other dog was, he’d go find them. He knew all the kids by name.
Baths, however, were his nemesis. I had to be sneaky. If I even whispered the word "bath," he would cower and slink out of the room. I always had to wash him first because if I bathed Toby first, Belson would vanish for a good thirty minutes!
Everyone loved our sweet Belly Boy—Matthew's friends, Tanner and Katie's college friends, everyone. He lived a beautiful, full life with the same family, meeting all the grandkids. In fact, one of Joanie's first words was "Belson/Toby."
I don't know if dogs go to heaven, but if they do, I hope he is with Alex right now, surrounded by love, a stick and a ball close by.
I loved that dog with all my heart. I will miss him dearly.
