Mr. Bo isn’t doing too well. He fell down the stairs the other day and now his knee cap keeps popping out. My sister seems to think that he’s on his way out.
Since Jimmy was born, Bo hasn’t been much in my thoughts. He’s underfoot when I’m at my mom’s house and I ignore him as I dote on Jimmy.
Each time Lisa tells me how Bo is just creeping along, I can’t help think of my dad. It was just a few months prior to his own death my father confided in me that he hated to see Bo get old and eventually die. “Chins live only 10 years on average and Bo is 8 years now. I can’t imagine him not in our lives, that silly dog.”
And then just a few months later, my dad keeled over dead. Bo outlasted him.
Lisa picked Bo. It was between Bo and his lemon colored brother. Bo won because he snuggled into her chest and looked up at her adoringly. It also helped that he had the cutest little snot bubbles protruding from his nose that made Lisa giggle.
Bo sat on my lap as Lisa drove the 3 hours home. Holding that little pup, he fit in the palm of my right hand; I just kept thinking, “I will make sure you are safe and well-cared for… you will live a good life, little puppy.”
I can proudly say that I kept my word.
Bo isn’t gone yet and I absolutely hope he is on the mend and not going anywhere for quite sometime. He is a good, silly dog.