A week ago today, one of my dogs died, and I’m having some trouble processing it.

I’ve owned dogs my entire life, so I’m no stranger to dogs passing on to the great fire hydrant in the sky. However this time was different, she died suddenly without warning, due to a undiscovered tumor on her heart that started bleeding. The vet did his best, but, well, sometimes these things happen. She was only 8, we should had her for another 5-7 years given the normal life span for her breed.

 Her name was Ariel and she was a Giant Schnauzer. She was sorta a blue light special because her coloring was all wrong for the show ring, so we got her at a discount from her breeder. No, we did not get a puppy mill dog, she came from one of the top breeders in the country. If I was going to get something that big I wanted to be sure it came from a good bloodline.

At 95 pounds, Ariel was big, boisterous presence in our household. She loved people and other dogs, as long as they did come into her house. Yappy little dogs were no problem for her, even though she could have easily squashed them between her toes. She regarded them with patient tolerance, even if she did seem to consider them barking rats. Dogs large enough to be playmates were welcomed with doggie enthusiasm. The only dog she ever meet that she did not like was Dodger, a young Lab who kept trying to mount her. I can’t blame her for that one, I never liked strange men who kept hitting on me either.

Ariel loved to get out. Trips to the dog park? Joy! Trips to the beach? Rapture! Any place that had people who would scratch her ears was OK with her. Any place that had dogs who would play with her was even better. She threw herself into each new experience with enthusiasm comparable to Snoopy’s show-stopping supper dish number.

She was good with cats too, surprisingly enough. She was barely a year old when one of our cats had kittens and she found the tiny balls of fluff fascinating. She remained friends with the kitten we kept, patiently allowing the cat to groom her ears, even though I don’t think she liked it. One time our old Mama cat tried to remove some tidbit from Ariel’s dish, while Ariel was eating. A lot dogs would dispatched the cat to the Litter Box of the Hereafter for this offense, and Ari certainly had the opportunity, I was on the other side of the room and unable to intervene in time. Ari simply picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck and tossed her across the room, and then calmly went back to eating. The cat, on the other hand, landed about 15 feet away, eyes open so wide I swear I saw her brain behind them, and then lit out for the other side of the house so fast she left a vapor trail behind her. Mama never messed with the dog again.

Oh, Ari had her faults. That dog talked, constantly. Ever been around a toddler who talked and talked and talked? Yep, I had the canine equivalent. Finding her in the dog park was no problem, just follow the sound. The most frequently asked question by visitors to our house was, “Does that dog ever shut up?”

And remember that caveat up above about how she liked people and dogs as long they did not come into the house? Let’s just say crossing our threshold could be a bit on the perilous side, especially if you were an adult male. I think my husband was looking forward to Ariel biting a few of our daughter’s boyfriends (to save him the trouble).

On the other hand, this trait of her made her the best deterrent to solicitors, even the pushy ones who ignored the “No Solicitors” sign on the door. I still giggle of the memory of the alarm salesman who tried to convince me that a large dog was really no deterrent to crime as he sssllloooowwwlllyyyy backed away from her pearly whites. I didn’t buy the alarm.

I just realized that I have not explained the “Golden Schnauzer” nickname from the title. Basically, we gave her that name because we had the emergency vet on speed dial. I think the vet’s receptionist knew our number by heart when it popped up on caller ID. “Oh look, it’s Ariel again, now I can buy that new car!”

Ariel started her career has a medical marvel only a couple months after we got her, when she was still a clumsy puppy. Somehow she punctured her chin, but since schnauzers are groomed with a beard, we did not notice the wound until it became infected. Of course we noticed around 11 o’clock at night, so off the expensive 24-hour vet. $700 later, she was fine.

Then my husband was replacing a window, and she knocked over the old window as it leaned up against the house and sliced her paw open. She got stitches and the vet got $100.

But the topper was the time she ate a pound bag of macadamia nuts. Here’s an expensive lesson I learned that I’ll share: Macadamias cause temporary paralysis in dogs. Of course we only learned that lesson after $250 in x-rays, trying to figure out why her back legs were not working. Fortunately our vet noticed the nuts in her droppings before it got too out of control. 48 hours later, she was back to normal. Too bad about the bank account., but, hey, we have a good story.

How can you not miss a dog like that? It’s the little things that get me, like how she used the sleep on the floor on my side of the bed, so I had to be careful when I got out of bed. I’m still careful, but there is no dog to step over. I only prepare one dog dish at night, and no one greets me at the door when I get home from work. I never thought I would miss all the barking, but I do.

I suppose time will heal, and writing this has certainly helped.