My thoughts today turned to a beautiful old dog we loved and still love that has passed on. I wrote this shortly after. Dusted it off, polished it up, and thought it was fitting for today’s post.
“Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.”
BEAUREGARD (Beau) LYBERG- JULY 1998- SEPTEMBER 14, 2013
Abandoned as a puppy and left in a dumpster to die. Rescued by a kind soul that nursed him back to health and then took him to the Arizona Humane Society. It was there he acquired the lackluster name of ‘SPOT’.
On October 14,1998 Pete and I, having recently bought our home, went in search of a dog. As we walked through the kennels, the noise was deafening. All the poor dogs, clamoring for attention, begging us to take them home. Pete walked right by Beau at first, but I stopped. This motley colored dog- he was so happy. The most beautiful face stared from behind the bars- innocent and wide eyed and smiling ear to ear. I called Pete back, and I said this is the one.
We took him to an area to get to know him, and we knew in those first few moments that he was going to be our pup. Spot was about 3 months old.We had to leave him that day so they could spay him before he could come home. On October 16, Pete drove back to the Humane Society, and picked him up. ‘Spot’ rode all the way home in our old blue pickup sprawled across Pete’s shoulders- it was where he felt safest.
Once at home, we kept trying to decide what to name him. He was deserving of a name that had meaning and dignity. Being from the South, I had always loved the name Beauregard. General Beauregard was a Civil War general who was the victor at the first battle of Bull Run. So, Spot became Beauregard, “Beau” for short.
Beau gave us many years of joy, laughter, and companionship. Today, we made the hard decision to let him go. After hundreds of walks, and thousands of times playing catch, Beau’s bones let him down. His hips are giving out on him. The vet tells us he’s in pain. He still smiles through it all, but hardly hears or sees us. It’s the least we can do for such a brave and wonderful dog.
Beau spent his last night with us, sleeping next to our bed. We slept little, knowing the dawn would come too soon.
Taking him to the vet was anguishing. She tried to reassure us, but it was fruitless. We laid on the floor beside him and cried him to heaven. This morning, I looked up the meaning of Beauregard on the internet.
It’s French and it means “Beautiful Gaze”. Indeed, how fitting for a noble dog.