The day of Boomer’s death will be hard to write and hard to read.
On the morning of the day that Boomer passed away, I got a late start to work. Boomer was not able to get up and go outside to the bathroom. I tried to carry him toward the breezeway, and I actually made it out to the garage, but he just walked out of the garage, turned around, and laid down. Katy came out and we smiled at him. He was tired, but he seemed happy.
I drove to work.
That night, Katy and I were supposed to meet some friends from dinner, but just before 5PM Katy called me.
Boomer had tried to stand up, gone to the bathroom in the house, and then collapsed and started bleeding from his mouth. Katy was grief-stricken and didn’t know what to do. She tried calling our vet but they weren’t helpful. The best thing to do was bring him to the Tufts emergency room. Katy and Matthew could not lift him into the car because of Katy’s broken finger, so she ran across the street and asked Sarah Mann to help load him into the car, and then she and Matthew drove to the hospital.
I hung up the phone at work and knew that Boomer was dying and there would be nothing we could do. For me to drive to Tufts at rush hour would take a while, so I decided to say a prayer:
“God, please keep him alive so I can say goodbye”.
Katy and Matthew had arrived at Tufts and Boomer was immediately taken into the hospital. The emergency crew asked Katy if they should try and resuscitate him (should he pass away). Katy said “no”. She knew that even if he was brought back to life he would never recover.
As I pulled into the Tufts parking lot, Boomer had already died. None of us knew this.
I walked into the ER and sat with Katy and Matthew. The doctor came out and asked “who has the Golden Retriever”? We walked over to him, and he said:
“Boomer died. But we resuscitated him”.
We were confused, because Katy had specifically asked that he not be resuscitated.
And then I remembered my prayer. I said “Let’s go see him”.
We entered a room and they wheeled Boomer in. He saw us and his eyes filled with life. And he smiled. He was thrilled.
The vet told us that we had only a few moments before they would have to put him down. And then he left the room.
We all grabbed a hold of him and sobbed, and said our goodbyes. We told him how much we loved him, and what a good boy he was. And then the doctor came in and injected him, and he passed away.
I held him behind his ears as he passed, and put my forehead against his. He was always so soft.
We lost one of our best friends that day.
It’s five months later and, other than my family, I can’t think of a closer companion that I’ve ever had. I miss him dearly.
We drove home and called Becky. She was stunned, and sad.
And then we called our pastor, Pastor Will. Within an hour he was in our kitchen, consoling us as we struggled in disbelief. As we spoke we realized that Boomer had been the link that brought us to Liberty Church. Liberty has been the single most important influence on our family. Boomer was more than a family member, he was a gift that blessed our lives by introducing us to our church community, which by far is his greatest legacy.
Within a few weeks Boomer’s ashes were ready to be picked up at Tufts.
We struggle as we consider getting another dog, because the pain of loss is so great.
Thank you, God, for Boomer. Boomer’s life wasn’t about him, and it wasn’t about us.
It was about You. Your gift of Boomer to our family was, is, and will be, a generational blessing.
