Long ago and far away I met my first Boston terrier in the Windy City, Chicago. I walked into a pet store called the "Barking Lot" and walked over to the puppy and dog viewing area. I went in only to look because pet stores are notorious for selling substandard puppies from puppy mills. Standing next to me was a woman who was eyeing a Maltese puppy; she looked into one of the other cages and said, Have you ever seen anything uglier? I turned to look at what she was referring to and noticed a baby Boston terrier sitting in the cage she was talking about. His body was tiny, but his head and eyes were large, I'd never seen anything cuter. How could anything so young and sweet be considered ugly?
At this point the pet store attendant came around to ask if anyone would like to see any of the puppies outside of their cage. I looked at the woman standing next to me and said, I'd like to see that one. It didn't take long for my heart to melt and my mind to be made up once he snuggled against my neck. His puppy smell was intoxicating. And before I knew it, the words "I'll take this one had escaped my lips. I left the store the proud owner of a baby boy Boston terrier, however he had no name. I searched his eyes for a clue; I watched his behaviors for a hint. But alas, nothing seemed quite right.
It was a cold wintry day, the kind when you just want to get under a blanket and watch movies all day long with some hot chocolate with marshmallows. So while we were under our blanket it came to me, my puppies name would be Bandit.
For the next 11 years, this dog, surely sent from heaven would see my life go through many changes, some good and some not so good. Bandit would remain by my side through thick and thin. And through it all we came through it more or less unscarred. Two weeks prior to his death, Bandit experienced multiple seizures. I hadnt realized that this cascade of events would be the beginning to the end. I rushed Bandit the emergency vet. Several agonizing hours later the vet came out to say that given the signs and symptoms Bandit was exhibiting, there was a strong possibility he had a brain tumor but that additional tests would need to be run before an appropriate and correct diagnosis could be confirmed. Anyone who has ever loved their pet and were in such a position would have spared no expense to save their loved ones life. Sadly, I was not in such a financial position to make such a decision. The vet said if I couldn’t afford possible surgery then running further tests would be pointless. With a very heavy heart, I felt overwhelmed by all I needed to take into consideration. Along with the Vets prompting I decided to take my beloved friend home. The doctor said that without further testing and treatment Bandit would have only twenty-four to forty-eight hours left to live.
We arrived home at 5pm, we were both physically exhausted. I was spent emotionally and my spirit had been broken. I managed to fix us both something to eat. I kept Bandit close to me while I ate and stared blankly at the television. At approximately 6:15pm, Bandit crawled into my lap and looked up at me and took a deep breath. He exhaled and passed away in my arms. I felt his spirit leave his body that now lay lifeless. I now held the shell of what was once my boy Bandit; I was filled with a heart full of emotion as tears rolled slowly down my cheeks.