Saying Goodbye to a Dog That Saved My Life

I didn’t understand “soul dog” until I had one

Photo by Fran Taylor on Unsplash

We rescued Bolivar from a kill shelter for my daughter. But, as dogs sometimes do, he picked me as his person, and there was no changing his mind. Though she fed, walked, and groomed him, he still shadowed my every step. She said, “Mom, he’s picked you, and it’s okay — I’ll find my dog eventually.” She did, a couple of years later, and she’s a beautiful German Shepherd who’s asleep by the fireplace right now.

If you’ve ever been lucky enough to be chosen by a dog, then you know what I mean. Bolivar was an affable, lovable mutt who adored virtually everyone. But I was his person.

My son played a game where he would come sit beside me and say, “My momma,” just to watch the dog try to wiggle in between us, tail wagging and 90 pounds of affection using his legs in an attempt to move my son over. Eventually, he could walk into the room and say, “My momma,” and the dog would land in my lap.

Then, something strange happened, and it kept happening until his last days. To explain, I need to give a bit of backstory.

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