R.I.P. Baxter

This week, we had to say goodbye to our beloved Boston terrier, Baxter. We’ve had several Bostons over the nearly 27 years we’ve been married, and they’ve all been charming, hilarious companions who were full of personality, but Baxter had the sweetest disposition of them all. We are heartbroken.

We don’t know exactly how old he was or anything about his backstory. We don’t even know his actual name — Baxter was the one they gave him at the shelter where he came in as a stray, and we thought it suited him as the proper gentleman that he was, so we kept it. We adopted him from Boston Buddies, the Boston terrier rescue group in Southern California, which works tirelessly to get these dogs fixed and treated before matching them with the right homes. This was back in May 2020, at the start of the pandemic, when people stuck at home with extra time on their hands were clearing out the shelters. It was really hard to find a dog to adopt or even foster back then. But the folks at Boston Buddies already knew us from our previous Boston, Boss, and thankfully they thought we’d be a good fit for Bax, too.

All the clichés are true: Dogs really are the ones who rescue us. Baxter gave us structure and purpose during a scary, uncertain period. He forced us out of the house several times a day, which allowed us to meet neighbors we wouldn’t have known otherwise, some of whom remain dear friends. And he was always delightful company, whether we were working from home or strolling along the bluffs at sunset. He cuddled next to me as I watched movies or edited videos, and he slept in bed with Nic every night. He’d follow us around the house to lick the sweat off our legs when we returned from a run. He’d bark at the peahens who wandered into our backyard, an unexpectedly shrill hack that seemed to come from deep within him. His excited roo-roo-roo when Chris got home from work literally sounded as if he was saying: “Where were you???” Baxter was a weirdo, but an adorable weirdo.

The vet estimated Baxter was 8 years old when we got him, but about two years into our time with him, we began to notice a little hitch in his giddy-up. Eventually, we learned he was suffering from intervertebral disc disease, which we tried to manage through anti-inflammatories, acupuncture and physical therapy. The Help ‘Em Up Harness was indeed a huge help, as it allowed us to support his weakening hips and hind legs as he was walking.

But in time, he wasn’t up for much activity at all. The walks grew shorter, and food interested him less. He could no longer hear the cheddar cheese package opening in the kitchen, a sound that ordinarily would send his giant bat ears straight up into the air no matter where he was in the house. That was a tell-tale sign of his decline, but we couldn’t see how bad it had gotten while we were in the middle of it. We were primarily concerned with keeping him comfortable from day to day.

In the last month or so, though, he wasn’t even able to stand up, and it became clear that he really wasn’t enjoying life. The heart murmur the vet had diagnosed a while ago had gotten worse. So we made the agonizing decision that it was time to let him go. Looking back through old pictures and videos, it’s obvious how much he’d deteriorated. We knew we were doing the humane thing, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

I’m so thankful that Nic had Baxter in his life through a crucial time in his development. He was a fourth grader back in May 2020; now he’s a high school freshman who towers over me. He’s old enough to remember and treasure all the years they spent together, and hopefully those lessons of care and compassion will carry him through the rest of his life. As for us, we’ll dog-sit and foster for a while, and even adopt another dog down the road — and it’ll probably be another Boston.

I promise to return to writing about movies on Saturday. That’s why you’re here, after all. But I couldn’t let this Friday pass without paying tribute to the little guy who changed our lives. Thanks for taking the time to read about him.