Bentley….sweet, sweet boy.
You didn’t live with me, but you were my family, you were mine.
I didn’t even know you were sick, Puppy. In a way, I wish I had known, but for what? To have spent the last 4 months dreading this news?
You were an angel with fur, all boundless energy and unwavering loyalty; mischievious spunk and super-canine strength.
You loved and protected my mama with the fiercest loyalty, knowing she was sick with a 6th sense that only a sweet, loving doggy could. You sat by her feet, day and night. Slept at the foot of her bed, made sure she knew she was protected.
You could never control yourself, overcome with excitement, your huge body knocking down visitors, paws on their shoulders in one fell swoop, tail wagging so hard it could take out a small child. Or a large adult, really. Tearing off down the street after a bird, or a squirrel, or a stiff breeze, ripping your mama’s wrist out of its socket, landing her in surgery…oh Bentley.
You loved salad. You crazy, silly ball of fur…what dog loves salad? What dog puts on a necktie and goes to work with his dad? What dog was loved so much and so fully by the humans in his life? You were, sweet Ben….
Thank you for the memories, the laughs and the love. I was the luckiest to call you family.