My pitt bull, Killer, died this morning. I have to be grateful that it happened just like I hoped it would. Sounds sort of silly to be saying that about a dog, but we've all watched her go down this whole month of May. She had cancer. I knew it was coming last night, and I got up to check on her several times. She had gotten to where she would sleep on the brown couch during the night; I'm sure it was more comfortable than her usual spot in a bed under the covers. It was like she waited for my husband John, who loved her most of all, to get up so she could tell him goodbye, and then died quietly while he was getting ready for work. I guess it's weird to say, but the house seems that it is missing something now.
I am sitting here this morning looking through the pictures on my computer, trying to find the right picture of Killer that would let you know what a special dog she was. I would give anything if I had one of her when she would "smile" when she was really glad to see someone. Of course that just scared some people. I've had the postman and UPS stand on the sidewalk and throw packages on the porch rather than approach the door with Killer watching them. But anyway, I know the pictures I want and I will probably spend most of this day looking for them.
She was given to my son, Jason, as a Christmas present from a girlfriend. I remember when Jason brought her home and she was so small. Nobody wanted to tell John that she was a pit bull, so we just told him that she was a bull dog. Personally, I don't think he believed us even then, but he loved her from that night on. She has been his best friend all these years, and I know that he will miss her more than the rest of us.
Killer was here to meet both of my son-in-laws when they came for the first time. It was sort of a family joke that how Killer reacted to a boyfriend determined whether they could stay or go, so a lot rode on Killer's liking them or not. Some people she loved from that first greeting, and others were tolerated because they simply wouldn't go away.
People began to ask me if I was going to get rid of Killer when the grandchildren started coming. I had never considered it, but I spent a lot of time watching carefully to see if Killer would be jealous. Needless to say it was never a problem. I can still see Killer when we brought the first one, Elliot, in and sat him down in his baby seat. She looked over every inch of him, or maybe I should say licked, and from that moment on all seven babies were greeted in the same fashion. I always knew if it was one of the kids at the front door because Killer would never bark, just wag her tail and wait for me to open the door.
Killer has been a part of our family through marriages, births, some sickness, but mostly for some of the happiest years of our lives, and she will be greatly missed.
These are not my favorite pictures of Killer, and now after several hours of looking I realize that they are not on my computer. Those were taken back before the days that I had a digital camera. Makes me realize how quickly the years go by, and that I have enjoyed every one of them.
