My beloved dog, Baci, passed away on August 8th, 2023 at the age of 14 just shy of 15 years. She was the center of my family for the first eight years of her life while we lived in a lake front home that was her oyster.  For the last six years, she has been my constant companion as I moved from house to apartment to town home.  In each successive move, the place got smaller and her ability to roam was hampered. I began working from home in 2020, and she became essentially an appendage.  Typically, being within 3 feet of me or, at the very least, within her field of vision as she perched on her beloved spot on the love seat. 

Here are all the things I will miss about my beloved Baci:

• A morning scratch. When Baci was much more agile, she would hop up on the coach where I was sitting (or any other possible scratcher) and put her paw on my arm to get my attention to give her a scratch.  The minute I backed off scratches, she would put her paw on me again to continue.

• Punctual. She always knew what time it was especially if it was time for a walk or a meal or a kid needed to get to the school bus.  She was always a step ahead, anticipating each upcoming event and would happily remind you in case you had forgotten.

• Alert.  She definitely lost her vision and hearing in recent years but I can remember her starting to bark when a garbage truck was a half mile away. I couldn’t hear it but she could. She knew the rumble of the truck and knew a stranger would be in the driveway pulling out the garbage cans.  She always had a perch by the front window to bark at walkers, runners and, most especially, dogs. And if she was outside, she ran along the perimeter of her area to ward off “the enemy”.

• Her sworn enemy was the lake.  She grew up next to the lake since she was a puppy. She ran up and down the lake bank especially on summer weekends as jet skiers and boats made waves for her to try to attack from the bank.  She fell in rarely, she was able to swim but for some reason she saw the lake as a huge wet monster.

• Compliant. Baci would always go along with whatever was asked of her like being put in a motor boat and watching her family get on an inner tube on the dreaded wet monster (see above).  There were her Halloween costumes, a pink jacket, ugly Christmas sweaters and, probably worst of all, the dreaded bell collar on Christmas Day that hampered her ability to catch a squirrel. Near the end, I had started putting her in diapers at night and she never baulked. The obligatory picture of each kid holding her before heading off to college.  If Mom wanted it, she complied.

• Squirrels.  Baci had an incredible prey drive.  There was one tree in the front yard that Baci chased many a squirrel up.  She would race around the base of the tree and would charge the trunk trying to get up it, to no avail. In the last two years while walking the trails of Woodcroft, she would tug on the leash trying to chase them. 

• Rabbits. Baci would stop and “point” especially at a rabbit.  She could stand still for 15 minutes waiting to stomp on top of the rabbit.  She was never successful and, in fact, frequently would overshoot the rabbit giving it an escape route. In all of her hunting, she never brought anything home expect a bird and a vol and that was over ten years ago.

• Flies.  Baci could catch a fly.  She could sit by a window sill and focus on the fly and then hit it with her tongue. 

• Steps.  At the lake house my children’s bedrooms were on the second floor up a carpet covered staircase.  There were many times when she would sneak upstairs to snuggle with one of my kids in their room.  Unfortunately, we updated the house to get rid of the carpet not thinking about Baci’s ability to navigate hardwood steps. After the carpet was removed we would often have to coax her back down the stairs.  

• Her spot.  Baci always had her “spot” in the house or apartment.  For many years until Hurricane Matthew, it was a burgundy lounge chair we started calling the Princess Chair since she always held court in the chair.  Later it was the brown love seat that she always occupied until she was less agile and then it became her gray bed.  

• Toys.  Baci stopped destroying toys after the first few years.  She had a beloved bunny or tug toy she would grab onto and pull and growl.  She really loved a lacrosse ball for a while and many tennis balls.  She could chase and return a ball but really loved to pull on a tug.

• Hikes.  She went on countless hikes with me and would be overwhelmed by all the smells that surrounded her.  So much so that she rarely paid attention to other hikers and their dogs.  It’s so strange that she would bark at dogs crossing her home space but didn’t pay attention to them out in the world and really wanted to forage in the forest to chase down smells. Some of my best memories of her will be hiking down a tree lined trail looking for what was around the next bend.

And now there is silence. My days are aimless without my companion to remind me of what is coming up next. Her absolute joy at each and every meal and snack. Her waiting for me expectantly to return home. The anticipation of the leash and a walk outside in a wonderful exploration of world. The happy, unconditional symbiosis broken with only memories to sustain me and knowing she had and was the best.