– Konrad Lorenz
To call him a dog hardly seems to do him justice, though inasmuch as he had four legs, a tail, and barked, I admit he was, to all outward appearances. But to those who knew him well, he was a perfect gentleman.
– Hermione Gingold
Bishop wasn’t my dog, let me be clear about that from the start, but he felt like my dog. I was the one who drove my daughter to the farm where he was born. And I was the one who gave him his first toy:
He was happy, and smart, and friendly. Because his humans worked all day, he was crate trained and I’d go over in the early afternoon to let him out to play. And he loved to play, especially with sticks:
But if there weren’t any sticks around, he was great at finding his own toys (and burying them):
Sometimes, however, he liked to play with things he wasn’t supposed to, like his mom’s peonies:
Of course he liked to get presents, but I think the favourite present his human parents gave him was a tiny human of his own:
They even shared the same taste in toys:
He was so gentle and patient, I mean how many other dogs do you know who’d be willing to play dress-up?
They stayed best friends even after he went blind. They still played together and cuddled under blankets together. His little human even helped to find him sticks:
He had a good life and a happy one. Even after going blind, and being diagnosed with diabetes (requiring daily insulin shots), he kept his sweet disposition. But nothing good can last forever (and he was the goodest of the good). When he was diagnosed with cancer it caught everyone unprepared. He left us sooner than anyone would have wished, and he will be sorely missed.
Good night, sweet prince. Enjoy your pain-free eternity over the rainbow bridge.
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