Boris…Born a dog,Died a Saint
Boris is no more….the big guy was put to sleep after a prolonged fight with skin cancer. He went gracefully and peacefully much like how he lived his life. For those that had met Boris, he was the gentlest of dogs with only his size suggesting the degree of ferocity commonly associated with German Shepherds. My father aptly called him the “wise old sage”. He sat around the house quietly watching us go through our daily chores almost mocking us with the peace that he seemed to have found inside him. A very severe ear infection had left Boris all but deaf towards the last few years of his life which I suspect further contributed to his peacefulness. He heard little and said even less. Content to communicate as and when absolutely needed. Towards his last few days he must have been in tremendous pain but never displayed it in anyway but for an odd wince or two when medicine was applied over his wounds.
He lived his 13 years well. Better than many of us will live our share of whatever is allocated to us. If I could, I would inscribe on Boris’s grave..”Born a Dog..Died a saint”