RIP Sweet Apollo
Today, May 18, 2020, was the passing of King Louie’s Dance of Apollo.
Our Sweet Apollo crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. He had a welcoming committee, for sure. There was Denali and Prada and Munchie, all friends from his past. And his long- time buddy, B.J. And I am sure he met new friends, as well. He has given us such joy around the Fuzzy Chicken Farm, and it is so difficult to experience this once again.
Apollo was full of energy and had a very loving demeanor. He would have been 14 years old on July 29th. He is a Standard Poodle and the epitome of a canine that loves his family. And his family loved him.
I recall a few of his antics. For one, he loved to go with me to the post office, protecting me, or so he thought. And if he did not go, then he would wait at the front door until I returned. In fact, many times when we left on errands, he would wait there and bark when we did return. Sadly, the past year he was unable to do that.
He loved company. Furiously, he would bark at the doorbell and then he would introduce himself to the guests, especially the female gender. One could see the excitement in his eyes. When they would sit down, he would promptly raise his paw for assurances that they were welcome.
His had his moments. Another one was him being unable to come into the kitchen. We never scolded him, I would only ask, “Apollo, are you in the kitchen?” at which he would abruptly turn around and depart the area. Or begging for a bite of our sandwich. He had this habit of laying his chin (?) on the footrest of the recliner at which time I would promptly call him “Despicable”.
Then the “Rancherette” would take up for him and say, “You’re not Despicable.” And of course, he got his bites of a sandwich. There are many stories about Apollo. These are but a few.
But life itself includes those moments when not all is good news.
For several months Apollo’s health has declined. He struggled to catch his breath, mostly because of a heart condition. Arthritis had set in his hips and his both front legs. It has caught him in his elder years. His heart was giving out and he could no longer walk. So, we did what was necessary to relieve his pain. And it was bittersweet.
I have gone through the happening of having a trusted animal member cross over the Rainbow Bridge too many times in the past. It never gets any easier, but love transcends the life experience, and this is the ultimate life experience. We love all our animals. We want them to live forever. Sadly, they do not. Then, neither do we.
So, Apollo, cross on over that colored bridge. Meet up with your friends, run and bark and spend your days knowing you no longer suffer on this earth. We miss you my friend.
Honey this is so beautifully written and such sweet memories.
Apollo , just the name chokes me up right now. I pray this gets easier and I can smile and laugh again when we recall those days.
Thank you for loving him as much as I did.
So sorry for your loss. I grew up around poodles of the bigger variety–after Mom lost her first beloved poodle Jim, each succeeding companion took his name. She doted on those dogs. Each had a story. One Jim was afraid of the ferocious cat, Fido-or Phydeaux as Mom spelled it. One time my fiance Mitch had to get into my parents’ house in my absence, and he had heard stories about the cat disciplining the dogs. Jim was standing there barking and growling at Mitch and would not let him come in, so Mitch armed himself with the cat, went into the house cat first, and Jim backed up all the way to the far living-room wall. That Jim looked just like your Apollo and was just as personable and protective. We laugh about that story to this day. God bless you and happy hunting to your dear departed Apollo.
Thank you so much for your condolences. We all appreciate our canine companions.