Farewell, friend

The handsome fella that is common to all the above pictures is Luther.  He was our first baby.  Brad and I drove to Grand Island to get him from a lady who had an ad in The Independent the day we first moved into an apartment complex that allowed dogs, back in August of 2003.  He was born in late June, therefore he was just over 8 years old.  What a dog!!!  If you have never looked into the eyes of a basset hound pup, then you have never known pure joy:)  If you have ever met Luther, you know that obedience and good manners were lost on him.  As a puppy, he was a biter, a chewer, a barker.  As an adolescent and older pup, he stole food, whined when we had company, and jumped on the laps of people he liked.  His short hair fell out everywhere.  He sometimes forgot how to be potty trained.  And his most fatal of personality flaws was that no matter what, he was a runner who followed his nose, as hounds are prone to doing.  But despite all these things, we loved this guy like mad.  You just couldn't stay angry with those sad eyes, those long ears.  He was the most gentle creature, always happy to see us, eager for our attention, loved to cuddle.  And when Willa joined our family, there was never a concern that he would bother a baby, or be unkind to her.  He would allow her to hit, pull his ears, climb on, ride, poke.  And at the end of the day, even if he stole her snacks or stepped on her toes with his giant paws, she would hug him and tell him that she loved him.  Her "You-Fer."  (His name was tricky for her, as she can't do L's or th's very well:)   
Sunday night, we lost our Luther.  I will spare some of the yuckier details, but I was home alone, getting ready for a night shift at the hospital and he got off the lead and choke collar that we put him out on when we can't walk him on his leash.  I didn't know he was gone for about 10 minutes and by the time I started looking for him, I had a terrible feeling that it was too late.  He had been hit by a car.  My parent's came and helped us with his body, which we made a nice home for in our yard, amongst some pine trees and sunflowers. 
If you have ever lost a pet, you know exactly where we are at right now.  Devastated.  I get short of breath when I pass the spot on the road where the accident occurred.  I semi-dread going home and not having him run to greet me.  I start to talk to him while I am doing house work.  I never realized how much he filled our home with his presence, how much everything I do all day is just a little bit affected by my buddy.  I have never been able to set a plate of food at the edge of the counter or on the coffee table before.  I have never had to sweep up food scraps from the kitchen floor.  I have never been able to leave a door ajar to the outside.  I have never felt worried that there might be a stranger in my yard that would get scared away by his bark.  I have never had to explain to a 2 year old why she won't see her furry friend ever again, but that she can visit his forever-bed and talk to him if she wants.  Ugh.  I have never shed so many tears typing a blog-post.
If you knew my friend Luther, say a little prayer for him.  If he ever stole your food, or rooted in your purse for a stuffed cheeseburger, or got frisky with one of your pets (or your leg), please think of him fondly.  And if you have ever lost a pet, my heart goes out to you, as well.