Yesterday, February 14th we lost our sweet Ringo. He has been in our family since he was two months old, and he was 10 years old at his passing. We will miss him dearly. Ringo was an amazing, one-of-a-kind dog. He was part Irish Setter and Border Collie, both hyper-full of energy dogs. 
Ringo always wanted to play- with a frisbee or a blue racketball. If he had his way, he would play non-stop all day long, every day. We would take him outside and throw the ball and take him on walks and as soon as we tired him out, we'd come inside, yet he would still stand at the door and want to play more. We kept his ball and frisbee on top of the refridgerator and anytime we'd walk into the kitchen he would stand by the sliding glass door and stare up almost looking at the ball and looking just past us, not wanting to make direct eye contact I suppose. In his way I guess he was trying to be subtle. He'd switch his glance to us, the up toward the ball then back to us.... just begging us to play with him...again. In his prime, Ringo won the annual frisbee contests in Boise. He won first place in Long-distance two years in a row, and 2nd place two different years. He thrived on retrieving.
Ringo always wanted to play- with a frisbee or a blue racketball. If he had his way, he would play non-stop all day long, every day. We would take him outside and throw the ball and take him on walks and as soon as we tired him out, we'd come inside, yet he would still stand at the door and want to play more. We kept his ball and frisbee on top of the refridgerator and anytime we'd walk into the kitchen he would stand by the sliding glass door and stare up almost looking at the ball and looking just past us, not wanting to make direct eye contact I suppose. In his way I guess he was trying to be subtle. He'd switch his glance to us, the up toward the ball then back to us.... just begging us to play with him...again. In his prime, Ringo won the annual frisbee contests in Boise. He won first place in Long-distance two years in a row, and 2nd place two different years. He thrived on retrieving.Ringo had a goofy way of sleeping. He had such long legs that when he slept on his side he would lace his legs between each other so they were laying on top of each other - back leg, then front leg, then back leg the front leg. It was funny and cute to see.
If we got Chopin his sister dog, to sing (which she was good at), Ringo would join in TRYING to howl like she did. Most of the time Ringo just barked. We did know he could howl because when sirens rang in the city and Chopin would start howling Ringo would join in. She taught him that.
During the summer months I would take Ringo on rollerblade rides. He loved to run so this was perfect. I would hold his leash, while on my rollerblades and he would run practically pushing me along. We would go so fast I took a few good falls scraping my knees, one time even doing a flip while falling. He knew how to run but didn't quite know how to slow down. As he got a little older I was able to teach him to at least slow down at turns. When he saw another dog, he would run even faster towards him (not in meanness, just wanting to greet the other dog), and I learned the hard way to just let go of the leash. There was no stopping him. But it was so exhilerating for me (with the need for speed), and for him as well, that we just kept riding together. One time there was a small dog that ran towards us into the street and in Ringo's protective nature attacked the dog ( of course I had to let go of the leash), but as soon as I called him, he stopped and came to me without hurting the other dog.
Ringo did protect me when it came to other dogs. Probably that was part out of jealousy.
In his last few months he had an alarm clock in him. About 9:00 p.m. after the kids were in bed and Andrew and I watched T.V. he would stand up, and stare at us. He'd get closer and rest his head on my lap or the couch. I would say "not now Ringo" knowing he wanted to play with the ball or frisbee. Usually the guilt would get the better of me, and I would go to the door and throw the ball a few times to calm him. I feel bad now that I didn't play with him as much as he needed. Andrew and I both feel guilty about that.
I feel like I had a special attachment to him, and him to me because he followed me everywhere, and he was protective of me. At night when we let the dogs back in from outside before bed, he always went straight to the bedroom knowing I was going to bed. He had my routine - OUR routine - down: So smart.
He was so much a part of our lives.
Andrew made a comment about a month ago that it was time to start spoiling our dogs more. They are older and they deserved to be spoiled. And we did. He got a soft bed for Ringo to sleep on, and dog treats every night.
About a month ago, we noticed a mass growing on his rib cage, and another one on the back of his arm. We knew many old dogs got fatty deposits and didn't think too much of it. He wasn't in pain and we said we'd watch it to see if it got bigger before we took him to the vet. Maybe we should have taken him in right away. We don't even know if that had anything to do with his death. I don't think we'll ever know.
Yesterday morning, like every other morning, I got up to let the dogs outside. I opened the sliding glass door and Chopin ran outside. Usually Ringo beats her outside and I called for him "Ringo out", and I looked down and he was standing between me and the door like he sometimes did when trying to get out, but instead of going out, he fell on the floor, shook alittle, cried a few times and stopped breathing. It was such a shock. There was no warning. There were no signs. He hadn't slowed down like old age does to dogs and he wasn't in pain. It's like in his excitment to go outside, his heart just seized on him.
I was there and felt helpless. I watched him die. It seemed like slow motion even though it happened so quickly. I am glad he wasn't in pain for long. Even though I am glad I was there for him and he wasn't alone when he died, it has made it very hard for me because I keep playing it in my head. Solomon was also there and saw it happen. I wish he didn't see that. We all cried throughout the day.
I am still crying.
Andrew dug a nice grave for him outside, and we put his dog dish, ball and frisbee in with him. Solomon wanted to keep his collar and tags so we let him have that.
Today we are going to the store to buy a stepping stone kit to make a nice marker for his grave. We are also going to buy a tree to plant there.
We love you Ringo and we miss you so much. I miss having you follow me around, and I miss your begging to play. We know you are up in heaven playing fetch with a child that needs you and making him happy. We know we will see you again because Dogs Go to Heaven too.
