Oliver

Oliver came into our lives May 31, 2007, the day of my husband’s retirement. He was 8 months old and I got him from a rescue group for a one week trial. Oliver spent his first day cowering in the laundry room but later in the week he found his voice and came out of hiding. At the end of the trial my husband said, “Take him back,” but my son said, “You can’t do that; he’ll have a complex.” My son won and so Oliver became part of our family. (My husband grew to love him as much as my son and I.) It soon became obvious that Oliver was HIGH energy. We walked at least 2 miles every day which helped some but even after that Oliver could still run laps around the family room, fly up and down the stairs, and still find the energy to be the world’s champion countersurfer.
Chewing was a favorite activity and we went through lots of chew toys. Even the ones designed for really tough chewers didn’t survive. Anything not nailed down was fair game. He was happy to rearrange any paper work within his reach and if you left anything on the floor—well, fugettaboutit. Waste baskets were emptied, toilet paper unrolled, socks purloined. Guests were advised not to leave shoes or purses where Oliver could find them. His most memorable incidents seemed to happen around Christmas. Once he got into some papier-mache apples. (Guess he thought they were the real thing.) Fortunately the dye didn’t do him any harm but getting it out of the carpet was not easy. Another year he ate almost an entire dozen of chocolate cupcakes that were too close to the edge of the table. That necessitated a trip to the back yard in the freezing cold so we could get Oliver to throw up. (Mission accomplished.)
No one ever accused Oliver of being a dumb dog. You could almost see the wheels going around in his little head. Once when I was walking him a passer-by said to me, “Your dog is thinking. You can look at his face and see that he’s thinking.” I bought him some doggie puzzles—the kind that the dog has to solve to get a treat. Oliver figured those out in a few minutes and then pestered me for more treats.
In the last few years Oliver slowed down quite a bit. His walking decreased from 2 miles to 1 mile and then just around the immediate neighborhood. At the end he was not able to walk at all and my husband had to carry him up and down the stairs. We tried to keep him going for as long as we could but when we realized there was little quality of life we knew it was time to say good-bye. He left us peacefully on December 14, 2022. Rest in the arms of St. Francis, OllieBear. We love you and miss you.