Thirteen and half years ago on a spring day, we went to a puppy rescue, several months after losing a beloved pet. While everyone fawned over the group of frisky puppies I noticed this quiet puppy off by himself. I sat down inside the kennel near him and waited. After a few minutes he started to sniff me and soon crawled into my lap. Goliath had suffered malnutrition and some abuse. The vet warned that because of this he might only live 8-10 years. Didn’t matter a lick, he was my pal and he grew to a health strong 87 lb. dog.
I worked at home back then and my youngest child was heading off to college in the fall. Goliath and I walked at lunch everyday. He’d sit right beside me as I worked and was always excited when the harness and leash came out. He was protective of me…the German Shepard in him showed in those moments. He and I made a compromise, when he was on alert he would sit as instructed and be a gentleman but his front paws always had to be just an inch in front of my toes.
I was blessed to be Goliath’s human for 13.5 years. I miss his face and the feel of his fur. I miss the wagging of that bushy tail and the warm brown eyes. Goliath began to fail and on Nov. 15 we had to make the tough decision to let him go. Dr. Lori was wonderful and my boy died in my arms, hearing my voice. I’m grateful he could be here at home for his journey across the Rainbow Bridge.
I still cry almost every day but I know it was the right thing for him. I promised him that we’ll see each other again and I know we will. Someday I’ll stroke his soft fur once again and look into those big brown eyes. Until that day I’ll carry you in my heart my beloved Goliath, you gave me so much unconditionally, that’s why I know all dogs go to heaven.
Corri and Monty