Mayer

Mayer came into our lives during the second half of his. We don’t know much about the first half of Mayer’s life, but we do know it wasn’t easy. He had been a breeding dog, and he was not treated very humanely. The physical and emotional scars from years of abuse were very apparent, and we tried our best to show him love and compassion.

The first few days with us was very rough, and he didn’t want to come out of his kennel. Soon, with the help of our other dog Buster, he learned that not all people are cruel, and he learned how to be a dog. He learned that it was okay to run and play. Still, he was never a very playful dog; he preferred to sit quietly near his family and enjoy all the activity of others. Often you’d find him comfortably curled up on the couch, tongue out, peacefully sleeping. Usually he’d be curled up right with Buster, as the two quickly became best buds. He enjoyed everything about car rides; being with his family in a small space and the gentle rumble of the road was the perfect nap environment for him. For the same reason, he also loved canoeing, though canoeing had the added bonus of possibly being able to eat a fish!

Mayer grew very attached to his family. Every night and every morning he would run around the house and check on each family member. Being a boston, with the typical smushed face, you always knew he was coming to check on you because of the heavy breathing. If someone wasn’t home, he would prance back and forth around the house on alert, not being able to fully relax until everyone was where they were supposed to be.

Our family grew during our years with Mayer. Mayer was the first to know with each pregnancy, as he would start to guard me and would check on me much more than normal. And he loved our girls. During sleepless nights with babies, he would come hang out with me in the nursery, patiently sitting next to me while I nursed, first our oldest, and then our second little girl. In his last days, his little body weak and struggling with each breath, the baby crying would still cause him to get up and check on her, forever putting his concern for others over himself.

Mayer did not need much; good food in his belly, a comfortable place to sit, and a gentle hand to pet him. If you sat quietly enough, he would come sit next to you and show you love in his own, gentle way.

Goodbye, sweet dog. We hope we helped enrich the second half of your life as much as you enriched ours.

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” – The Velveteen Rabbit, Margery Williams