Luna came into our life as a rescue back in 2010. She’d been at the SPCA for 13 months and was close to a year-and-a-half old. Most people, it seems, were scared off by her size and her somewhat fierce looks.
Her size was no joke. She generally weighed around 95 pounds. The ferocity was laughable to anyone who got to know her.
When we took her home, it was her first real experience being outdoors. In the first month of walks, we discovered that she was afraid of:
Bees
Boy Scouts
Storm Drains
People on bicycles
Coyotes
These all faded in time, except the bicycle thing.
Yesterday, around 1PM, I took her out into the back yard. She patrolled the perimeter fence like always, just much slower than she did fourteen years ago. By 4PM she was gone.
That’s the longest we’ve ever had a dog, and a long lifespan for a dog that size.
She loved to play tug-of-war. She and Bear (another large rescue) got so rambunctious at times that the furniture was rearranged. When Bear died, we brought home Buster, who was only four months old. She adopted him immediately and dragged him across the floor by the chew toy until he grew enough to hold his own in the tug-of-war arena. More furniture was rearranged.
Luna would stand with her front paws in a graceful fifth position. She was also a leaner. More than one human suffered knee pain trying to support her. It seems she taught Buster that trick as well.
Around 4PM, after she had passed, we sent texts to the family with this sentence included: The next time you hear thunder, it’ll be Luna and Bear rearranging the furniture in Heaven.
Just before 5PM, from mostly clear skies, we were startled out of our sadness by a single, tremendously loud clap of thunder followed by rain.
She couldn’t have sent a clearer message.
RIP Luna. Not rest in peace, but rest in play.