My Boyfriend Riley

Riley has died.

He died December 30th. His dad called to tell my human this weekend.

He was only 8.

I met Riley in 2007, just after the human and I moved to our house on the lake in Burlington. We were out for a walk on a cold day when I saw him walking toward us.

Oh, my, he was handsome.

My tail wagged. My butt wiggled. We approached each other, performed the ritual sniff, and I loved him at first sniff.

For three years, we were neighbours, sometimes going on planned walks, very often just running into each other on the street and walking from there.

In summer, we frolicked in the lake together while Riley ate rocks. He would carry his favourite rock home with him. This made his human happy.

Riley needed tennis balls in his food dish in order to eat his kibble. If Gary, his human, removed them, Riley would return them to the bowl before eating.

When we went to his house, he was like a kangaroo at the back fence, jumping up and down so that all we could see was his head bobbing up over the fence line, disappearing, then bobbing back up again.

My human used to toss kibble at us like we were trained seals or something, and we would take turns catching them in the air. Riley was really good at it.

He was so handsome. Big, strong, beautiful colouring. He had a great bark too, and he loved to chase a ball in 'Riley Park' across the street from our house. I used to sit in the grass and watch him run, jumping in the air to retrieve the ball.

When we moved, our humans kept in touch and we got to see each other for walks still. Not as often as before, but the humans made sure our relationship stayed intact.

My human and I are utterly devastated that he is gone. We loved him. We will miss him.

Riley, I will see you again one day.

xoxoxo

Storm