My sweet dog Trigger passed away last week at the not-so-spring-chicken-like-age of 13. And notwithstanding her longness-in-the-tooth, her death came quickly and without warning, even if it was peaceful. Her passing was oddly coincidental to the recent death (last month) of my fat cat Weasel because I was out of town for both passings. Being absent to cradle them in their final breaths causes me some amount of guilt in addition to my sorrow. As those with pets surely know, pets properly loved become family members.
Trigger was no exception to this, and she and I shared better than a third of my life (and all but two months of hers). Trigger was with me when I walked Shawn home from out first date. "Ugly dog" as I affectionately, albeit correctly, called her was among the many things that Shawn would have to learn to love about me, tolerate, or ignore. Or course, Shawn learned to love Trigger, which was easy given Trigger's sweet disposition, impeccable behavior, and terrible looks (which must have made me far more handsome by comparison). Trigger was one of the best dogs ever.
Trig was unfailingly patient and pleasant, even though she was always resigned to being "just the dog." The top of our family's veritable family totem pole changed often; from the introduction of Weasel, followed shortly by Ladybug, and years later with two actual children. The bottom, however, remained constant. And Trigger waited patiently as her share of parental time continued to diminish. Always a lover, she was ready at a moment's notice to go for a ride or walk, but was also happy just being around people.
For my own part, mine became a love-hate relationship with Trigger: love for all those that you love a great dog, and hate for knowing that I did not deserve her and that she was not treated as well as she deserved. Too often she was neglected, relegated to getting out of the way, and treated more as an irritation and unwanted distraction than the valued member of the family that she was. There might be a special place in hell reserved for me for being a bad owner to Trig, yet even in hell, she would be right by my side, ever the loyal mutt.
I am still traveling, which thus far has prevented me from making my peace with my oldest friend. Normally I keep these sort of feelings to myself, but so many people knew and adored Trigger that I feel constrained to post of her passing. She was a wonderful friend, dog, and member of my family. She will be sorely missed and never forgotten.
