I've been spending a lot of time going through my photos of Asher--photos that have reminded me of the joyful, goofy, loyal, anxious dog that blessed our lives for 12 years. I hope this photo journey will make you smile as much as it has made me smile. I've already written about our loss, but I still wanted to share his life in pictures.
Asher Dasher was a pretty handsome fellow with a big personality. Soft Coated Wheaten Terriers are a jolly, happy, playful breed by nature.
Asher was always very tolerant!
He loved Miss A and her entire family.
Anne knew just the spot to scratch him.
He loved celebrating birthdays and opening boxes!
He thought every box that arrived was for him.
He always kept watch on us and was happiest when his entire 'herd' was together in the same place.
He knew who to take care of and when.
Even the day before he died, he was keeping watch in front of my bedroom door. I'd always hear him plunk down in front of my door and it was like 'permission' to go to sleep because I knew I was safe.
He loved to 'supervise' everything.
He even protected my slippers.
He took great joy in romping through the yard, going on a Wheaten 'tear' and chasing after his Kong AirDog. These moments, when he was full of complete joy, are some of my favorite memories of him.
He loved to sniff the fresh air.
He loved to lay in the cool grass, especially on summer evenings.
He knew when Ben the Mailman left him a bone with the mail.
He loved to go for rides and on outings.
And always looked for a bench or picnic table on which to rest.
He loved the snow--playing in it and eating it! Even during his last days, he'd ask to go outside so he could eat some snow.
He even liked to lay down in the snow for a rest.
Dad and Asher had a very special bond. Asher was Dad's "Good Buddy". They enjoyed lots of wrestling matches over the years.
Asher had lots of goofy ways of resting and hanging out.
He would lie at the top of the steps or halfway down as a way to 'keep watch' on both me and Mom.
He thought the ottomans were his!
He could do 'pretty boy'.
He loved that ring, and I loved when he carried it over top of his nose.
A romp required a good drink out of the faucet afterwards or a rest by his water bowl.
He had funny crooked teeth.
He took care of me. Really good care of me.
Abbie's very first memory of Asher is coming to meet him the day after we got him, when I was very very sick. When she came into the living room, he was lying right next to me. She said it was as if he knew his 'job' right away.
He loved his toys and I loved the joyful noise of him squeaking them. He'd often dig around in his toy boxes looking for just the right toy.
This was a common scene at dinner time. He'd get out toys, put them by his bowl, and wait for dinner.
I made him pose for a lot of photos. :)
He gave a lot of kisses. A lot. If you don't want to get a lot of kisses and be licked a lot, don't get a Wheaten! He even gave full foot cleanings.
Thankfully, he always loved going to the vet.
This is one of my last photos of him, taken while he was staying with Dad and Abbie.
And here's one of his last photo-ops--this one by Marge.
Asher could no longer enjoy the things he loved most in this life. He is without pain now. He is not suffering. Below are the very first photos I have of him. I hope he is with his frolicking and napping with his foster sister Zoe by his side.
Jean and I will be lifelong friends and forever connected because she saved Asher's life and let us be his forever family.
I've never been so fiercely loved or protected by a dog. Sometimes Asher's desire to protect me made him a challenge and his anxiety was sky-high. Yet a look into those soulful eyes made it impossible not to love him for his giant, loving, generous heart. Asher was always a 'brother' to me--different from the puppies. We called him my brother and my sibling. I certainly was not his mommy, as he is the one who, I believe, came into my life to take care of me. He had a very clear purpose and job in this life of his. He did it well, never wavering in his faithfulness.
The comfort of his body next to mine; the bark to let Mom know something is wrong; the body in front of my door; the squeak of his toys; the joy in chasing his ring, squeaking toys, playing in the snow; the click of his toenails; the car rides and outings we had together on my sickest days; the look in his soulful eyes; and his goofy ways will be deeply missed.
He was a great brother.
Blessings,
Emily
1 comment:
pretty nice blog, following :)
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