And then there were two...

He was the little guy responsible for dandelion control. The bright yellow flowers were his favourite snack food and I didn't mind one bit!

Piper and our rabbit, Honey, were my constant companions in the garden (the two older dogs always preferring the cool comfort of the air conditioned kitchen). I have never felt right about keeping the rabbit caged, so when I could, I allowed him the freedom to hop around and explore the backyard.

Last May

You might suppose that at this small hint of freedom, the rabbit might make good his escape into the wild. Quite the contrary is true! He preferred the safety of familiar ground and always had a few favourite spots. The yard is fully fenced, so it was never likely that he'd stray far at any rate. 

My only worry was hawks. That's is where Piper's animosity for large birds came in handy. 

This hostility started with seagulls that frequent the Walmart parking lot. Piper loves the car (weather permitting). He’s one of those dogs that likes to ride in the back with his head out the open window. The slightest jingle of car keys and Piper’s at the front door manoeuvring to ensure he gets to come along.

On the occasion that I am off doing errands or in the store, Piper takes the self-appointed task of protecting the car very seriously. It was on one of these shopping trips that Piper got introduced to seagulls.

Gulls are brash and brazenly opportunistic. They often hang around in the parking lot of our neighbourhood Walmart looking to take advantage of the smallest scrap of edible garbage. When a few of them flew near our parked car, Piper decided the gulls were the enemy. I came out from the store to find him jumping around the car barking at the seagulls through the half-open windows (I should mention this happened in the fall. I don't leave him in a hot car in the summer).

Piper on patrol.

It occurred to me that his dislike of seagulls might have an application in the garden.

I began to encourage him to bark whenever something large flew overhead. Before I knew it, he was barking at any large bird who flew over the garden (mostly harmless black vultures, but expecting him to appreciate the subtle distinctions between a hawk and a vulture seemed to be overly optimistic).

I began to feel comfortable with the rabbit being in the garden as long as his buddy Piper was on patrol.

I have never known a dog who is as fascinated with other creatures as Piper is.  I'll be digging around in the flowerbed when I notice Piper poking his nose at ants that make the mistake of crossing his path. Or I'll look over and see him watching bumblebees with rapt attention. 

When my husband discovered a Swallowtail newly emerged from its chrysalis earlier this spring, he gave the butterfly a free ride over to the flowers in my garden. Of course, Piper was fascinated with the tentative flutter of butterfly's new wings.

Piper loved the rabbit. He was forever licking his face and ears. I am not so sure the feeling was entirely mutual, but the rabbit put up with all the attention.

In early June, I began to notice a problem with the rabbit's ears. A bit of online research suggested it might be mites, but I couldn't find any indication of mites when I examined him. His balance seemed a bit off, and then sadly, Honey took a sudden turn for the worse. He had a little seizure and passed away in my husband's arms.

I was devastated–especially by the unexpected nature of his loss. To make me feel better my husband took away the empty cage and hid it in the basement. Still, I found myself looking over to the spot by my desk where the cage had been. My morning routine of cleaning out his cage was gone and I missed the way his eyes lit up when I fed him a sliver of apple for breakfast. And of course, I felt his absence in the garden...

Unfortunately, Honey has not been our only loss this summer. On Monday, we had to make that horrible decision that I knew was coming. 

Buddy was well on his way to twenty years old. He was a handsome boy and the best of dogs.

This is one of the ways I want to remember him.

In the last six months, Buddy had really slowed down. Stairs were impossible with his limited vision, so my husband carried him to bed each night and down to breakfast each morning. 

The two younger dogs would devour their dry toast and be standing at the door ready to go out for their morning exercise. More often than I'd like, Buddy would eat his breakfast and head for his bed. Still, there were lots of times he'd rally and his quality of life was still good.

On Saturday, Buddy seemed to have a bad stomach bug–not untypical for an older dog. By Sunday we knew it was something more serious. We were up quite literally all night mopping up mess after mess. I took him down to the bathroom at 4 am to give him a complete bath. He lay exhausted and spent as I dried and brushed his fur. There didn't seem to be any fight left in him.

On Monday we made the terrible decision that no pet lover ever wants to make and booked an appointment with the vet. Buddy lay still while the vet confirmed the merit of our decision. A few minutes later I stroked Buddy's head, tears rolling down my face as my husband and I said our goodbyes. Buddy stirred and then drifted quietly away.

There are now just two dogs in a garden, but in my heart, there will always be three.

P.S. Though the bunny is gone, Piper still charges up and down the yard alerting me to the presence of any large birds. Perhaps it is just as well because yesterday I noticed there is a wild baby bunny in the garden.