Sheldon
He was only 7.5 years old; I thought we had a few more years.
He seemed fine in the morning, and he was gone that evening. We won't ever know why with certainty, but all signs point to hemangiosarcoma which is a common cause of sudden death in certain breeds, including German Shepherd (he was mostly Border Collie, but was also part German Shepherd...essentially, a galumphing, 75-lb Border Collie).
He had just turned 3 when we got him after his former owner had to move into a rental apartment that didn't have backyard access. He was a delight for the too-short time we had with him.
I'll forever miss the way his face lit up when I told him friends or family were coming over, or that we were going to go to the cottage...the way he watched for the boys at school pick-up...the way he lay on the bed at my feet while I typed on my laptop...the way he wrestled with his cousin-dog Rosie...the way he could recognize the crinkle of the cheese packaging no matter how far he was from the kitchen...the way he enjoyed having his paws massaged...the way he sometimes passive-aggressively took extra long to do something I asked because he questioned my leadership...the way he raced to the van when we were packed and ready to go to Haliburton, and the way he'd then race to the van when it was time to come back home, always a little worried we were going to leave without him...that wonderful sound of him lying down and heaving that big sigh...
We love you, Sheldon. You brought so much joy to our lives.
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