And I will fall in love again

Wow. Today I had to do something that hit me really hard. I had to say goodbye to Frank. I know it was the right thing to do but it was still really hard. I said I wanted to clear out all the roommates but this is not what I meant. If you're not in a good place, you might want to stop reading now...

Frank was a rescue dog. He came from the Mastif Rescue center here. Big fat head, stubby legs, and a tongue that seemed like it was 4 feet long. We think he was about 3 when I got him. He had been abused in his life and really didn't like guys except for a couple of my friends. He didn't like cats or small dogs but larger dogs he was good with. We don't know his real name but the rescue place called him Frank. He didn't answer to Frank well but he knew what leashes were for and how to sit and stay, more or less :). He was all about going for a walk/drag around the neighborhood... He loved to ride in the car. Front seat or backseat, he was happy. The first time I stuffed him through the new dog door he looked at me like he "couldn't believe you would be so mean as to stuff me through... hey wait a minute, I'm outside! This is magic!" then he ran back and forth through the door like a million times.

He was all about guarding me from the "evil" roommates. If the fireman that lived with me got home before I did, Frank would hide in his corner under the stairs. Once I got home, he'd go bark at the fireman three times, then run outside to bark at him three more times under the window to his room, then run back in to do it several more times. At 11pm, midnight, and 1am before I'd put him in his crate and he'd relax. He did that with all the roommates over time!

He had a darling trot that says "I have something that I probably shouldn't but I'm taking it outside now, you can't see me!" He was all about eating things that crunched. Like empty soda bottles. Or train cars. Or noodles. He loved dried noodles. One day he bit into a box that looked like a noodle box. A big cloud of oatmeal formed around his head. He was not pleased. He walked away from the cloud and never ate another noodle box :)

I started taking him for drives over to my buddy's house on the east side of town. We had thought that maybe Frank was bored at my house and needed some friends so I brought him over weekly or so. We stayed there during the Waldo Canyon fire evacuation and when I went to California a couple weeks ago, Frank stayed with them. Monday we went to my buddy's house and Frank ran around with the dogs there in the big back yard. While we were there, he got into the food bin with one of the others and together they ate several days worth of food! I called my buddy the next day to say that Frank had surprisingly not eaten anything that night. We all laughed about "The Lummox" still being full.
The next day he still hadn't eaten or drank anything. And he was walking really strangly. He didn't run out the dogdoor to see me when I got home or jump up on the bed when we went to bed but rather sat on the floor near the bed. His walking deteriorated over the next couple days and I thought wow, I guess we need to visit the vet. I offered him some hot dogs this morning and he scarfed them down which confused me even more because I still thought he wasn't eating cause he was full--or something. I got him a cup of water which he drank from my hand. It was then that I realized he wasn't eating because he couldn't get down to the food bowls on the floor so I but them on a box so he could eat while sitting there. He drank most of the water I offered. (but the yucky dry food was no fun after having hot dogs, and we all know Frank was all about the weiners!)

I tried to carry him out to the car so we could go to the vet but he squirmed and jumped down (kinda). I got his leash out and he was all excited. He drug himself out to the car. I put him in the back seat. He drug himself into the vet's office. She did some tests and then told me that he was likely having a problem common to his breed, a slipped disk. They could send me somewhere for surgery but as fast as he had deteriorated, it was likely he would never walk properly again, or be able to potty by himself.
My little voice had warned me this morning that this was likely but I couldn't believe it. I broke down and cried. Frank had been with me less than a year and I was already being asked to put him down. I called my buddy and while I talked to him, I realized that it would be best for Frank if I let him go. I held him while they injected him with the drug to make him rest. I told him he was the guy I liked sleeping with the most. He was shaking, so was I. He licked me once more, then they injected him with the other drug. Before the plunger completed, he was gone.

When I got to class tonight, I saw this post from a friend who attributed it to Frank. It so looks like my bed does! Thankfully there haven't been many student questions tonight cause they're working on projects and I'm not really in the Now I suppose.

I guess Frank went out doing what he wanted to do, take a walk and go for a drive. We should all be so lucky.
So say we all!

Title reference: LeAnn Rimes "One Way Ticket" This song was the first song on the radio after I got back in my car at the vet's. I turned the radio off :)