Saying good-bye to Angus

My brother showed up for Christmas one year with a travel bag that looked like a cooler. He told my dad he brought home some special meat for the holiday. But when my dad opened the bag, a tiny little black nose poked out and licked his face.

It was Angus. A tiny puppy my brother and his partner had rescued back in Colorado and flown him all the way to New Hampshire to give to my dad.

That was more than thirteen years ago. Since then, my family has seen so many changes. A marriage. The births of four grandchildren. The purchases of three houses (my sister's, my parents' and mine). And the loss of our sweet, loving brother. Angus has been here with us for every milestone. He has been a constant companion, comforter, babysitter, and friend.

This is Angus and my son at Beede Falls in Sandwich, NH.



This is a picture of Angus my son drew after spending time with him in Maine one summer. I believe that's supposed to be me, E and Angus.


Here's Angus visiting one winter, keeping all the kids and my mom rounded up on the couch.


Here's an illustration my son made to go with a picture book text I wrote about Angus.


And here's my son taking Angus for an after-Thanksgiving-dinner walk a few years ago at my parents' house.


Today, my parents are in my thoughts as they say good-bye to their dear, dear pup. I know it is especially hard because of the ties to my brother.

Thank you, lovely Angus, for giving us all so much comfort and joy for so many years. We'll miss you.