I’m sorry to be emerging from my silence with such bad news, but there it is…

7 years ago, when I had been searching high and low for a Boston Terrier, a vet friend called to tell me that a pregnant one had been abandoned at his clinic. They didn’t know what to do with the litter, and thus entered the loveliest of puppies into my life.

Over the years Comet became more than a pet, more than a friend even, as she was with me through two relationships, and a few years of single life in between. Through the (sometimes major) changes that life inevitably brings, she was my constant roommate, a faithful presence that grounded me.

When my time in Newcastle became longer than expected, she was taken care of by my excellent dog-loving parents. Over this time she had some gastric issues that seemed to recover by Christmas.

Unfortunately, things took a sad turn last week as my parents called on my birthday to say she had started suffering a lot, crying for hours each day. Vets suspected a new problem, namely a slipped disc in her neck, and recommended surgery. Two days ago, while she was under anesthetic to undergo this surgery, an MRI revealed quite numerous and extensive tumors, including in her stomach and neck. They felt that treatment would be quite painful and not prolong her time much. My parents frantically tried to reach me in Newcastle so I would give my consent not let her wake up from the anesthesia. When they couldn’t, they faced the horrible burden of making this decision for me, then having to break the sad news a few hours afterwards.

When I did reach my mother, she was inconsolable. I knew immediately things had gone horribly wrong.

A fearless, friendly and happy dog, she had taken part in everything, be it running, swimming, kayaking, camping and hiking, bike riding, and even acted in a play last year. Her sweet and even temper helped her make many dog friends and converted several indifferent humans into dog fans. Her silliness (like not barking at the flasher at the window, but at the cops trying to catch him) never failed to cheer us up.

With all that we shared, having Comet in my life became a much bigger part of my identity than I realised. I can’t help but think that with her passing, a very special period of my life passes as well.

I’m devastated not to have been there to say goodbye to my most faithful, dearest girl. I know she had a very happy, full life, was loved dearly until the very end by her mom and grandparents, and that after this heartbreak subsides, we will have the good memories forever. I know this but I can’t imagine feeling that way any time soon.

Sleep well doggie chien, and say hello to heaven.

She actually really wanted to be a pirate.

I bought a bike a couple of weeks ago, and went straight from the bike store to the pet store to buy a backpack in which to put Comet for our rides. Unfortunately, she’s way too big for any of the models, and it was with a (slightly) heavy heart that I went on my first big ride last weekend, without her.

The next idea was a bike trailer for children, but they’re very bulky and expensive, not to mention the relative ridiculousness of putting a dog in them. But after much searching, I found this lovely item, made in the Netherlands by Basil. I had a hard time finding it in North America, but have just secured my own.

The ridiculousness isn’t completely out of the picture though, especially considering that I’ve been looking at dog helmets and goggles…

Overheard at Couche Tard tonight:

- What a beautiful doggie you have! Hi doggie! (Puts hand up to Doggie. Doggie sniffs suspiciously.)
- Be careful, I think she’s gonna bark.
- Jennifer? Her name’s Jennifer?
- No, Comet.
- Ah, Thomas. Hi Thomas! You’re really cute!
- She’s gonna bark.
- She cannot bark? How sad!
- … Yes, really sad.

Happiness is a stick of your own.

Jonathan and I babysat the lovely Daisy over the weekend, which left us thinking about getting another dog. Comet would be less lonely, and having a dog each is fun when we go out. However, we thought, the Boston Terrier is the best dog for our lifestyle, and we could not possibly improve on that. To be as good as a Boston, the other dog would have to be short-haired, same size or smaller (because the jobbies are big enough as they are), happy in an apartment without a yard, and quiet. Moreover, to use the litterbox like Comet, it would have to be female (as males raise the leg).

The next morning, my production manager happened to mention that her friend is trying to give away a female chihuahua. This sounded like it fit all the criteria, so Jonathan and I debated it at length. Maybe it’s a sign that we’re ready. We’d be doing it for Comet, but we don’t know how she’d react. We couldn’t take a chihuahua camping. Eventually we got tired and stopped, having resolved nothing.

And then I got another e-mail from Annie. “Oops, it’s a chinchilla, not a chihuahua”.

Just goes to show (again). Ignore the problem long enough and it goes away.

This evening, I was sitting at my computer and Comet was eating, when all of a sudden she starting making a very laboured breathing noise, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Then all noise stopped as I saw her trying to vomit without success. She was choking!

I wonder if this works on dogs, I thought, and lifted her onto her hind legs, put my arms around her and jerked my joined hands upwards into her thoracic cavity, feeling a little stupid. A few attempts later though, the morsel jumped out of her throat and she swallowed it instantly, looking at me as if to wonder what the big deal was.

Then I thought, okay, that was lucky, but what was I really supposed to do? Well, it turns out that doggie Heimlich actually does exist and is exactly what you’re supposed to do when your dog is choking.

Lucky guess!

Comet has taken to licking the couch. Any and every couch. I don’t know why.

I’m thinking about entering her into an audition for a doggie clothing catalog. Because let’s face it, when it comes to Boston Terriers, she’s Evangeline frikkin Lilly.

This weekend, I described this blog as “basically me, but without the life” because most of the interesting, most blogworthy stuff is unbloggable. It usually either falls under too personal or too NDA-risky. And sure enough, in an incredibly eventful weekend, the only bloggable event is a little misadventure that befell a Boston terrier. So here goes.

Martine and Ed graciously invited me over for Sunday-evening barbecue, and having neglected Comet for most of the weekend I decided to bring her along. She’d get to go on her very first subway ride and spend the evening relaxing at a suburban backyard barbecue.

I walked her to Berri metro station on a leash, then struggled to stuff her into a doggie cage for the subway ride, under the amused eyes of the local squeegies. Just as I was passing the turnstile into the station, the handle on the cage gave, the cage loudly hit the ground, the cage door opened and Comet flew out into the station like a bullet. My heart fell as I watched her scurry away, fully aware she could go down to any of the many platforms.

Luckily, two metro cops started after her and one of them quickly grabbed her by the skin of her back. He brought her back to me, sweetly stroking Comet, who looked absolutely terrified. The poor things’s ears were all the way back onto her head, I’ve never seen her look so subdued. It took the two metro cops and a ticket counter employee to get her back into the cage.

Needless to say, we got a car ride on the way home.

When you live with someone, you often develop little quirky cohabitation habits that only the two of you know about. I have one of those with Comet.

See, when she stands on her hind legs, she often farts audibly. And now I’m so used to this, that I know when she’s up to no good, like trying to reach my peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the counter.

When all else is quiet in the house, you may hear a pinched little “brrrrap”, followed by a “Hey! what are you doing!?”

It’s just one of those little things.