Goodbye, Good Dog: Saying Farewell And Thank You To One Of The Best Little Bostons In Maine

When I was a little girl, we always had dogs. They were usually big dogs; labs or shepards.

But when I was in High School, my family adopted our first Boston Terrier, a sweet older dog named Smidgen. And from that point on, this pint-sized breed would become my forever favorite.

I know there are some folks out there who prefer bigger, sportier dogs who can complete tasks, and do things like hunt, or who look intimidating and would make a would-be criminal think twice about committing crimes against their owners. But to me, what these little guys lack in size or natural athletic ability, they make up for in personality and heart.

I guess I can kind of relate to them in that way. I'll likely never run a marathon or even scale my stairs without being winded, but I always have a pot of coffee on and would give you the shirt off my back if you needed it. I feel like if Boston Terriers wore shirts, they would give you theirs, too. Loyal, intuitive, and silly, these dogs keep hearts happy.

Read More: Heartwarming Reunion Of A Rescued Dog And Deputy Babcock

They can't help but be entertaining. If you took a fruit bat, a pig, and a gremlin and put them in a blender (I would never put an animal in a blender, but you get where I'm going with this) and then dressed that up into a tuxedo, that's what Boston Terriers look like. And all of the Bostons I've ever had have been super quirky.

Our first dog, Smidge, LOVED spaghetti.

When Smidge died, our family got another on Boston named Tid-bit.

Tid-Bit thought she was a child. She liked to dress up with the kids on Halloween and was heartbroken if she didn't get a costume. She was always right in the middle of a play date.

In 2004, I got my first pet as an adult, a Boston Terrier pup named Remmey.

Rem was our family dog for almost 12 years. My first 3 kiddos still remember what a gentle little sweetie she was.

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In 2015, just before Christmas, Rem passed. And while we had decided, as a family, to take some time before getting another dog, things don't always go as planned.

Our "time off" lasted 2 weeks.

Just after Christmas of that year, as I was scrolling on social media and snuggling with my 3-month-old baby, a post popped up from the Humane Society of the Waterville Area.

A 4-year-old Boston Terrier had been surrendered by a family who could no longer afford to keep a dog, and he was going to be put up for adoption that day.

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We had not intended to get a dog when we woke up that morning, but after a quick trip to Waterville to meet Harley and see how he'd do with our 4 young kids, we ended up bringing him back home that afternoon.

This sweet, goofy boy would end up being the glue that kept this family together and smiling for the next decade.

Without skipping a beat, as though he had been with us all along, Harley became the bright black and white blur of snorts and wiggles and crazy little antics that made us laugh.

That dog was a special kind of strange.

He hated it when people would hug, dance, or wrestle together. Whenever I would go to hug my son, Harley would get in the middle of the hug and bark till I'd back off.

My youngest was born just months before we brought him home, so he's literally been around for her entire life.

And while my son, who just turned 18, remembers our first pup, Remmey, Harley has been his best friend since he was 8, sticking by his side each day for a decade.

He was always so patient with the kids, even when the girls would make him dress up in silly headbands or crowns.

His sweetness was just beyond words. He always wanted to be around his people, even if he was simply napping nearby to them.

Full of life and love, his presence in our lives would get the kids and me through some of the toughest challenges we'd encounter, including a painful divorce, a pandemic, and the many other curveballs life would throw in our direction.

He knew just when to snuggle, and just when to sit silently on your foot, guarding you against an unknown enemy (even if those enemies were in your own mind).

When he'd sleep, he'd snore so loud it would make us all chuckle.

We were part of his pack, and his sense of familial duty to watch over that pack was uncanny and, at times, ridiculous.

For example, I was outside with my kids and a bunch of their friends one summer when we inadvertently discovered his disdain for swings.

I had just hung up a little swing for the kids on a tree branch in the front yard. I let the dog out to do his business when he noticed the new "threat" to the yard. He took one look at that thing, looked back at my girls as if to say, "I'll protect you," and then went nuts.

He completely lacked any awareness of just how small he was, which made the entire situation comical, as much as I commended him for his spirited attempts to take that swing down.  And the kids got such a kick out of it!

Always a source of giggles and smiles, he won the hearts of every person who ever entered our home, from family and friends to our furnace guy and plumber. Everyone knew and loved the little guy, even if he did grow to be a tad stinky and start to lose his vision.

A few years ago, he lost all of his vision.  And then his hearing went completely this past year. He spent more time sleeping than doing anything else the past few weeks.

When his health started to deteriorate, the kids and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to say goodbye to our Boston bestie this week.

His quality of life was no longer what it used to be, and a dog this great deserved to be at peace.

He had fulfilled his life's purpose, and then some. He made so much of the last 11 years better for everyone, as any good dog does.

Life, for my family, will not be the same without this guy. He's left a pint-sized hole in our hearts.

Losing a pet who has become such a huge part of your family is never an easy thing to do. To say it's been a rough week would be an understatement.

But it's also been a week full of reflection and appreciation.

To the family who surrendered Harley all those years ago, we'd like to say a special thank you. It was obvious, by how well he loved us, that he was loved by you first.

We are so grateful that we had the opportunity to give him a second home and love him for all these years, because you made the tough decision to give him up when you knew you could not care for him the way he needed to be cared for.

We are honored to have been given that chance.

To all of our friends and neighbors who have enjoyed this dog and doted on him over the years, we thank you for sharing in the love we had for him. He loved people and certainly had his favorites. But he'd wiggle for anyone who'd give him a pat on the back or a treat.

To all the many exceptional veterinarians who cared for our pooch through the years he was with us, thank you for helping him to live such a long and wonderful life. We have appreciated the time we've had with him.

To the compassionate Dr. Beckett with Comforting Hands Veterinary, who offers in-home euthanasia services: Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to keep Harley home, in his familiar space, so he could be comfortable and surrounded by his family and loved ones when he passed.

It was important to me that the kids feel safe to grieve, and allowing us to be at our house for the process was a gift.

And finally, to the pup who provided so much love and laughter to our lives over these long years, Harley:

Thank you for being just the best boy, ever. We're going to miss your snorts and snores, your spazzy little dances, the jingle of your collar, and the pitter-patter of your paws across the wooden floors that let us know you were on the move.

We'll miss the way you got so excited about cheese and how, even though it was almost as big as you were, you'd always chase the basketball down the road, and try to bite through it.

As a mom, I feel the deepest appreciation for the joy you brought to my kids, especially in times of trouble. I will treasure the smiles your presence inspired on their faces for the rest of my life.

You were simply the best. R.I.P, Harley.

Run free, little buddy.

Go get that ball!

If you're struggling with the loss of a pet, there are resources out there that can help. Click here to find some.