December 2014. We were downsizing to our new house that we had built, about which we were very excited. We had spent weeks packing, trashing old things, and cleaning out the old house. Our dogs, Cupcake and Oakley, were tense because they did not know what was going on. They had never been through a move before. On the day of the move, we decided that it would be easier to drop the dogs off at Bebe’s cousin Laura’s in Shenandoah, a few miles away from the new house. As Laura was helping us move, we just put the dogs in her fenced backyard. That way we figured we could leave the new house’s doors open while we moved the furniture in. We had not yet put up the fence in our new backyard, so it made perfect sense. After spending the day moving in, we went to pick up the dog sat Laura’s and low and behold, Cupcake was there, but Oakley was not. We realized he had jumped the 4-foot brick wall in front of Laura’s carport. Panicking, we called his name as loud as we could and drove up and down the neighborhood streets looking for him. It was dark and we finally gave up. I thought that we had probably lost Oakley for good. He had no chip-only an ID tag with his name and our phone number, which had not yet been reconnected in the new house. I thought the worse: someone had picked him up or he would get hit by a car. I had heard of dogs traveling hundreds of miles to go back home. But he did not really know we had moved into the new house. He and Cupcake had been in the new house while it was being built, but to them it was probably just a curiosity. I did suppose he might return to our old house. I had plans to put up signs the next day, but otherwise I did not know what to do. It took this for me to realize how attached I was to him.

Early the next morning, we got a call from one of our daughter Beth’s closest friends, Shannon, who said she was on her way to work during which she cut through Shenandoah. She knew Oakley and that he was missing, so when she saw him in Antioch Boulevard Park in Shenandoah, she pulled into the parking lot and called him. He was too scared to go to her, so she phoned us. I jumped into the car and arrived in less than 10 minutes. He ran to me when I called him and jumped into my car. You could tell he was exhausted, and his footpads were rubbed raw. He slept most of the day. I was so thankful and grateful for the miracle of Shannon having found him.

Beth and her then boyfriend Branson had adopted Oakley as a young pup in 2009. Branson named Oakley after his favorite brand of sunglasses. We felt like Oakley had been abused by children, as he, even in his older days, was skeptical of kids and was skittish about letting them pet him. Even though he was Beth’s dog, Oakley adopted Bebe and I, so when Beth moved out, we got to keep him. I had my nicknames for him: Oaks, Oakster, and Buddy Buddy Buddy.

After Cupcake passed away in 2017, Oakley took her place in my heart. His favorite things were family, me, his daily walks (twice a day some days), his squeaky toys (his latest, Lamb Chop), table food, popcorn, playing in the water spray from the hose, getting up with me at 4 am to get the newspaper, walk, and have breakfast. Heartwarming was when I saw him standing upright with his paws on the window ledge at the front door window watching as I came home from work. I always went to the door excited about greeting each other.

One day at our old house, Oakley, who was outside, came to the back door with a dead squirrel in his mouth.  You could see in his face how proud he was to show me his kill. I just got on his case. I’m sure he didn’t understand. From that incident we inherited four baby squirrels, who were obviously the dead squirrel’s progeny. Sabrina, Beth, and I took care of them before we turned them over to the LSU Vet School for rehabilitation.

Every morning as I was leaving for work, I would tell him, “Oakley, I’ve got to go to work but I’ll be back. You take care of Grandma and be a good boy. I love you.” Maybe it’s just my wishful thinking, but I think he took his task of taking care of Grandma seriously, as I am sure he knew that Bebe’s health had not been too good lately. Bebe said he became her shadow, following her everywhere during the day. When I was packing to go on trips, he got sad and pouty but when I returned, he barked, whimpered, and wagged his tail as we hugged, and I scratched his ears.

As I did with Cupcake, I created a song for Oakley that I sang to him when we went for walks:

Oakley, Boakely you’re a good ole boy

Oakley Boakely you’re a good ole boy

Oakley Boakely you’re a good, good boy

You’re a good, good, good boy

Run Oakley run

Run Oakley run

Run Oakley run

You’re a good, good, good, good boy.

I know, not very deep. He was probably thinking that I would never be a writer! But he seemed to like it, and I know he listened because when he was younger, he would pick up his pace when I got to the part about running.

He would get so excited when we took our morning and evening walks. If I forgot or neglected to take him, he would come up to me and begin barking to remind me. When I grabbed his lease, you would not believe the joy in his face and his jumping and prancing.

As he approached 16 years old, he developed arthritis in his legs. Even though he hurt and was weak in his legs, he still wanted to walk. Sabrina, our niece who is like a second daughter, also loved him. She and Beth split dog sitting a lot of times while we made medical trips to Houston for Bebe and John.

One day this past week, Bebe called and said he was lying down and panting, obviously in pain. I came home from work to take him to the vet. The vet told me he was in his last days and likely would not make it through the night due to his chronic kidney disease.  As this was just a walk-in clinic, they did not have euthanasia or in-house lab testing. She suggested going to an animal emergency hospital. Expecting to put him down, I took him home so Bebe, Beth, and Sabrina could say goodbye. At the animal hospital, just to be sure, I asked for lab tests before we put him down. The vet came back and said he had a UTI. With this, I thought there was hope. So, I had him stay there two days for antibiotic and fluid infusions. When I picked him up two days later, he seemed better. He was still drugged out the next day, but he drank water and was walking around. Although he didn’t seem to be in pain, on Sunday he stopped eating, drinking, and vomited a few times. Then, the final blow, he had a seizure. I knew then that it was time. Before we left the house, he had come up to me, put his snout in the crook of my arm while I petted his head. I know I felt his love, and he felt mine. At the hospital, the procedure was fast and painless for him. He slept through the entire procedure, even before the meds were injected. He went quietly.

I typed his history, lab test results, and symptoms to ChatGPT. It told me the most likely diagnosis was end-stage renal disease with possible neurological issues, with progression toward end of life.  Then ChatGPT said “Many people feel guilty about choosing euthanasia, but I can tell you it’s not giving up. It’s choosing to protect him from further suffering when there’s no clear path back to comfort or joy. You’ve already done so much-16 years of love, care, and being his person. That’s a full, beautiful life.” Who would know that an AI could sound so compassionate and human!

 Since that day, I come home from work, and even though I know better, I briefly feel the excitement of greeting Oakley for an instant before I tell my heart what my brain knows. He’s not going to be there.

Oakley Boakley you’re a good ole boy, you’re a good, good, good, good, good boy. And I know that you are now pain free. You have jumped your final fence. I am missing you.