I’m absolutely crushed. I’ve lost a great friend and member of our family, Coal. He escaped our backyard and was hit by car between the A and G street freeway on-ramps. He turned two on 11⁄16.
Coal was the dog I dreamed of having; he was the combination of all the Aussies I’ve had growing up.
He was the best. That dog never seemed to have a down moment. He was always happy, and always looking for trouble. I also felt like he was an extension to me, but I suspect that is me projecting my own personality on him. Lets be honest, he wasn’t an extension of me, he was better than me. He was me and more. Filled with unconditional love and never had a bad day, a temper tantrum, and a moment of self-involved narcissism. I was lucky to be with him.
I’ve always had an Australian Shepard; Max, Buddy, and then my parents both had Shasta and Happy. I loved their energy, friendliness, how expressive they seemed to be with their eyes. Even the ridiculous smile, which they always greeted me with.
They all lived to a average and predictable age (Shasta is still going strong) and I was prepared for their natural deaths. Over the years, both of my parents have gotten Aussie’s, and I’ve loved them too. I couldn’t be happier when I would visit and show them all the affection I could.
Not Coal. I’m not prepared to accept that he is gone, it still hasn’t fully processed yet. I keep looking at this pictures and even though I get upset, I still think that I’ll see him when I get home. Or when I look in the backyard, I expect to see him up to his usual shenanigans.
I didn’t get enough time with him, and I’m mad that I let him out early that morning instead of just keeping him in the house. I know that he just had it in him to escape and run around. He loved it, he loved exploring and being free, and that was noticeable when we first got him and he tried to escape the backyard.
His attempts to escape got really bad after Zoey died. It seemed that having her around helped ground him, especially when he got scared from loud noises like fireworks or gun shots. We knew we wanted to get out of Antioch for the kids, but when Coal started getting scared and trying to take off if we were not home, I knew he needed to move to a safer place as well. I just thought if he could make it until we moved, he would be happier and better off.
He just kept getting out though, and he got lucky every time. People would find him and bring him home to us, and I’d give them what ever I could to show my appreciation. He’d be happier than ever that he got to run around and then get delivered back to us, and it was concerning to me that he never came home on his own. That night I closed up where I noticed he had escaped from
I’m so sad that I didn’t get him to Santa Cruz, and that I wont get to hug him, kick the soccer ball around with him, go on walks, watch him sleep, kiss his cute snout with that black button nose. I’m going to miss him terribly.
I’ve shared an album on Picasa, please enjoy:
Goodbye Coal, I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep you safe. This is how I’ll always remember the two of us.