Oh Bo! Why did you have to go?

It was springtime, 2013. Our Chocolate Lab, Myli Mai, needed a friend, a companion, a playmate, and a pal. Momma called and said that she had seen an ad for the local shelter showcasing an older "black lab". She really thought he would be a good match for our family.

I loaded up the truck with Momma, my 3 year old daughter, and Myli. Off to the shelter we went. We arrived asking to see the "older black lab". They brought in "Duke". Duke was a Great Dane/ Black Lab mix. He was around 10 years old and liked to pee everywhere. Now, older dogs have bladder issues and that was not a major concern. The concern with Duke came when he curled his lip and low growled at my baby. He just wouldn't do.

The attendant took us for a stroll through the back room where the kennels were. She even let us sneak a peek at some brand new puppies that had been dumped on their doorstep the night before. Were we interested in anyone else that we saw? Yep, we wanted to take a look at "Buddy", a black lab and "something" cross mix. Buddy looked all lab except for a four inch section of extra long hair that waved like a flag at the end of his tail.

She returns us to the "visiting room" where Myli was waiting for us. Another attendant brings Buddy to the visiting room. We wait while he and Myli sniff and circle each other, getting acquainted in dog fashion. Buddy was young. Much younger than Duke, and very much into his prime. Myli wasn't all that interested in Buddy. He quickly showed us that he was interested in her, however. He mounted her and would not let her go. The attendant pulled him off and apologized, embarrassed for his behavior. Myli walked away from him, not really all that impressed with his advances. The moment that the attendant eased up the halter, he was on her again. This time, she responded with a snarl. Buddy just didn't feel right, either and was returned to his room.

The attendant asked if there was anyone else that we had seen. I had. There was a yellow lab that was just hanging out shyly in his kennel, not barking his head off like a fool when we circled through. Columbo, his name plaque said. The attendant explained that he was a stray that had come in approximately two months before and that they didn't know much about him. Except that he was part pit bull. She didn't think he would be a good fit for our family. Despite her opinion, I requested to meet him and returned to the visiting room.

Columbo was brought into the room. He was small for a lab, built more like the pit bull family, but he was colored yellow like his lab genes. His head was square and his shoulders broad. Columbo was quiet, like a gypsy soul. He and Myli circled one another, sniffing and meeting. Then something incredible happened. They instantly accepted one another. They laid down and placed their heads together as if they had always been together. No awkward, first date jitters. No dominance growls, no peeing and no humping.

We introduced him to Momma and my daughter. He reacted perfectly, he responded with approving tail wages and loving kisses. He got so excited that he lifted his leg where Duke had previously left his mark. Unfortunately, Momma was standing next to that chair and got a wet leg. We laughed although she was not impressed. We knew right then and there that we had found our new family member.

I looked to the attendant and told her as much. She insisted that she didn't think that he would be a good fit and that they just didn't know much about him, other than that he was a pit bull and they were known to be dangerous. I heard all of it, and cared about none of it. Columbo was coming home with us. We completed the paperwork, paid the adoption fees and loaded up in the truck to head home.

Columbo would soon be shortened to "Bo" because my daughter couldn't say Columbo. Bo was a better fit for a Country Dog like him anyways. Bo rode well in the truck and waited patiently to be let out. It was apparent that although he had been a stray, he had once been taught some manners.

Bo learned many things about living in the country over the next few days. He learned that baby chickens and animals are not to be hunted and eaten. That being a good boy afforded him extra treats and snuggles. We learned a few things too. We learned that he was very skittish around men, especially when wearing a hat. That was a good indicator that he had been abused in his previous life. He learned that taking a run off to the neighbors would afford him some kennel time.

Bo got to experience boat rides and camping trips, and trips that involved hotel stays while visiting the hubby out of town for work. He learned that if he didn't want to run alongside the four-wheeler that he just had to lay down and he would get a free ride back to the house. Most importantly, Bo learned what a home felt like, and how it felt to be loved.

Bo and Myli were inseparable. They always had to be within close distance to one another. They slept together on one bed, even though they each had their own. They shared the same food bowl, even though they each had their own. They would find a large stick and lay down side by side to each chew on an end. They would watch the flock of chickens, turkeys, ducks, and an occasional piglet like they were watching their own kids. They were literally like that old married couple that everyone dreams of being.

Bo contracted Lyme's Disease in the fall of 2017. He was quite sick before we caught it. It never stopped him from being one of the best dogs ever to grace this earth. Eventually the medications slowed him down and made him frail. In January of 2018, Bo spent a day just laying around, he had lost interest in eating or drinking and was having accidents in the house. Myli stayed by his side, bringing him toys and his favorite blankie. She brought him his favorite stick (which she knew wasn't allowed in the house). She knew her best friend, the love of her life was soon going to be crossing the Rainbow Bridge.

That evening, as we prepared for bed, I got down on the floor with him and Myli and talked to them both. I told Bo that I knew that he was hurting and that if he needed to go, that we would always love him and miss him, but that we would understand. He just laid his head in my hand and sighed. He gave one small thump with his tail indicating that he knew. Myli put her head on his and laid still with him, barely moving, barely breathing. After an hour or so of laying and petting and talking with that my Best Boy. I went to bed.

The next morning, I got up and Bo was still there, on his bed. My daughter, now 8, had tried to get them to go outside to relieve themselves and Bo refused. When I came into the kitchen, he jumped up, with renewed energy. I scratched his head, gave him a kiss and opened the door to let them out. It had snowed the night before. I shoveled some of the deck while he and Myli relieved themselves and went inside. They would come up when they were ready. I went to make some coffee and looked out the kitchen window and saw him lying in the freshly fallen snow. I knew this was it. I felt it in my soul. I threw on a coat and boots and rushed to him. He gently lifted his head, as if to tell me he had waited to say goodbye. The tears began to flow down my face as my Good Boy Bo took in one gasping breath of air, his heart raced against my hand, and he was gone.

Bo was one of the best dogs that I have ever known and loved. He was fiercely loyal to my family, my daughter especially. He was a protector and a partner to Myli and our flock. Colum"Bo" will forever be missed.