I didn't much like Wren when I met him. He was small--only about 11lbs. at fighting weight--and grey/brown, depending on the length of his haircut. He insisted on his priority. Everything, he believed, was better with Wren. Dinner was better with Wren. Television was better with Wren. Sleeping was better with Wren. Walking was definitely better with Wren. In fact, every action or reaction would benefit, Wren believed, from the presence of Wren. He even liked baths. He taught me more than I ever cared to know about the Napoleon complex. In the beginning, I wasn't at all sure that every activity could be made better by Wren.
I came around. It turned out walks were nicer with Wren. And television was somehow more interesting when there were ears to be scratched. I owe many words on the page and many posts on this blog to that little companion, always at my feet, sitting right there, looking up, wondering about treats, thinking about laps.
For those of you who have lived alone as adults, you know what it means to have a guy like Wren. Some days were hard and he was generally right there, leading the charge at the back door. It was good to be greeted when you came home. Very good.
He loved his walks and hated yellow school buses. He would dance and bark when the leashes came out. No matter how many dogs I had at the time, Wren needed to be FIRST. Once out, if a school bus came by, his fury knew no bounds. I have no idea why. Color, perhaps? Garbage trucks, city buses, nothing mattered but the yellow school bus. In Athens, the driver in my neighborhood stopped once to chat, she was laughing so hard. She just had to meet this dog. All of the kids stared out the window and Wren was befuddled. He'd actually caught one. It then ran away, of course. Like all of the other ones. Because they feared the Wren.
He lived with heart disease for nearly a year and taught us a good deal about courage. He had a job. He was a companion dog, bred and raised to make sure we were happy. And so, no matter his strength or breath, if there were stairs to be climbed or people to herd, he would be there. We tried at times to talk him out of it, but he had places to be, people to comfort, entertain, walk, console--he had a job. And so he fought and fought hard to the very end.
The folks at All Creatures were wonderful during his illness and through to the end today. We thought we were going to lose him in February and they gave us this year. I thought of these days as the bonus round Wren and we're deeply grateful to those who made it possible.
We'll miss him. More than we can say. He was a good dog.
