You may be thinking, what do you mean, “Rest in Peace, Dallas”, you haven’t killed your book, Exposing Dallas, have you?
That is where I mention that in no way do Exposing Dallas and my family’s dog have anything in common.
I wrote the original Exposing Dallas well before my parents received the German Shepherd mix from a friend. I’m not a big ‘fate’ person, but because of the coincidence, I do believe I was meant to re-write Exposing Dallas, which I did and am currently editing. After all, how many Dallases do you know? Exactly.
Enough about me.
Yesterday, Dallas the dog passed away. Normally the death of another person’s pet does not bother me so much, but Dallas actually spent a year at my house not long ago, and I grew to love her like my own. Therefore, this is a eulogy for her.
I had already moved out by the time my parents acquired the 5 year old Dallas from a friend, but I’ll never forget the first time I met her. She was quite spunky, and as I was walking in the door, I found her licking my dad’s goatee (he was asking her for kisses). You’d think that’s just disgusting, but, honestly, it was adorable. In all the years we had dogs, none had ever been so affectionate. She limped due to being hit by a car when she was younger. When she ran, she would lift her back leg in the air to keep the pressure off it.
Dallas was the most playful dog I’d ever met. She could chase a ball until she could no longer stand. But that energy was also a detriment. You can probably see by the picture that she had a funny tail. That’s because when my parents were away, and my grandmother was watching my brothers, Dallas got so excited while they were in the swimming pool (wanting to join them, I think), she bit her own tail (chasing it in circles) so hard that she had to have the end of it amputated!!!
My parents and I both moved to new homes within a matter of a few months, but my parents had to move into an apartment for a bit while their house was being built. Because I was moving to a 2 acre lot, we agreed to keep her until my parents moved into their new home.
That same summer, my husband and I got our own puppy, a Brittany Spaniel we named Vegas. Dallas became the new chew toy, and being about seven or eight, she was old enough that she was ‘over it’ really quickly. But she always tolerated Vegas with compassion, never once threatened the dog that perpetually hung off her legs in play. Dallas taught Vegas a few things, like how to shove her head in your lap each time you sat down, how to constantly “shake a paw”, and how to give yummy, juicy kisses. She also taught Vegas how to stay on the property. We didn’t even have to teach Dallas the boundaries of our lot, despite the hundreds of clear acreage around us. She was a good dog.
Dallas ended up living with us for a year. I don’t know how, it just happened. We went on a 3 week drive out east and gave her back to my parents at that time. They also adopted a Greyhound, who became Dally’s new best friend.
Dallas and Vegas never really got a chance to play together after that. Vegas was not a good ‘car dog’ (always wants to climb all over the driver) so we just kept her home when we visited my parents.
As old dogs do, Dallas slowly went downhill. Last week, my parents took her to the vet to get her lungs checked out. The vet said breathing hard was common, and to do tests would costs nearly a thousand dollars.
When I visited on Saturday, I made sure to give Dally a few extra pats and cuddles. She was her usual bright self, though. On Sunday, however, my parents brought her and Tango (the Greyhound) to our house so that Vegas and Dallas could play for the first time in a couple of years. Well, that day, Dallas was having none of it. She simply lay there, struggling to breathe, seemed in a daze, not really aware of anything going on around her.
The next day, Dallas passed away. As quickly as that. She was such a good dog, didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
Although she no longer lived with us, I still consider her my dog. Her behaviours will live on through Vegas (all but the ball fetching… Vegas is too lazy or disinterested) and in our memories and hearts.
Cherish your furball. They live their short lives for us, so remember to live for them.
I love you, Dallas. Rest in peace.