It has been years since this blog has been updated. The numerous passings of so many old friends was too much to bear. And with this post I bring more sad news. Many changes have happened in our lives, and with time comes aging. Ike was a few months past 13 when he succumbed to a brain tumor yesterday. His decline was mercifully short, beginning with some cognitive dysfunction that lasted a few months and only seemed a minor concern, normal aging. Twelve days ago, he had a seizure in my arms and another the following morning. My fabulous work colleagues were quick to consult a neurologist and get him on a drug program to stop the seizures and decrease the swelling in his brain. Thankfully, he only had those two seizures. But as it often goes with older dogs, the decline is swift and death is greedy. We released him from his body-prison surrounded by friends, and I watched the last flicker in his dimming candle go out.
Ike was a giant soul. He was funny and adorable and endlessly cuddly and sweet. He loved road trips and hotels and pepperoni pizza. He would happily ride on my lap for 6 hour stretches and endure a shower of kisses. He loved sitting on chairs in restaurants like a little gentlemen waiting for his meal. He hated snow and rain and celery and most other dogs. He loved his big white cat, Odin, and his grandma and his mama and papa.
Even the day before his death, people stopped us on the street to meet him and tell him how cute he was.
His gas was noxious and he snored like an eighty year old alcoholic, but I wouldn't trade one moment I had with him. He is embedded in my soul; my sweet Ikenstein, my Steiner, my Buttface, my Snorey, my Buddyface. There will never be another you, but I know there are many of your descendants out there. I see their faces on Pinterest and You Tube. And I hope to encounter one who needs a home. Or, you can come back to me, my sweet, just jump into new body and find your way home. I will be watching for you.