Goodbye, Sweet Brinkley

I haven't talked about him before in this blog, but until Monday night, the Buddies had a cousin.  Their cousin was a beautiful brown and white Boxer named Brinkley, or "B" for short.  Brinkley lived with my sister and brother-in-law and nephew, Max, and B was every bit as much my nephew as Max is.  And just because our Buddies never met him doesn't make him any less their cousin.  

I will never forget staying overnight with him on the couch at their house nine years ago, when my sister, Mary Jane, was in the hospital delivering Max.  B was nearly beside himself with joy that he was having a sleepover on his couch.  I had a bad habit of letting B lick me all over my face with his generous Boxer tongue, and B took full advantage of it.  B would get so excited that his entire body would wag, not just his adorable little stump of a tail, although that was moving pretty furiously, too.

B seemed to never meet a stranger (not unlike his mom), and charmed everyone from his family and friends to his vet and the folks at the kennel.  One look from his soulful "Louis Armstrong" eyes and you were completely hooked.  

In his later years, B was plagued with seizures, paralysis, infections and other symptoms, but he endured his many physical ailments with a courage and dignity that most of us would find challenging, if not impossible.  His vet suspected B probably had a brain tumor, which presented no other possible outcome except to get worse over time.   

B was helped over the Rainbow Bridge on Monday night by his vet.  He was assisted on his journey by my sister and my brother-in-law Wayne, who fed him popcorn, his favorite treat, right up until his final moments.  B passed peacefully to the other side, leaving a wake of sadness and a hole in the hearts of many.  According to my sister, B did not seem frightened by his final journey, and regarded this experience with the same quiet dignity he had brought to so much of the rest of his life.

B will be remembered as a loving, playful, strong and gentle fellow, who touched the lives of many just by his sweet existence.  Somewhere, B is catching popcorn out of the air, chasing balls and squeaky toys, and experiencing the freedom of being shed of the body that had begun to betray him as he stretched into old age. 

Goodbye, Sweet B.  I hope you and Leon are somewhere playing together.  Something tells me the two of you would have a lot to talk about.  

                            Brinkley Bernard, b. 6/20/01, d. 6/3/13  Rest in Peace, Sweet Buddy.