We lost Loki under similar circumstances. He was fine one day, and the next, super lethargic. It was the night before our huge summer party, and we were rushing around trying to get everything done. I remember I “kicked him” (nudged him with my foot, I have never EVER kicked a dog except once when one was attacking my elderly blind pup) to try to get him out of the way, and he wouldn’t move. I looked at Chris and said that something was wrong. Our energetic, eager to please border collie wouldn’t move. I still remember that “kick” and tear up thinking how awful he must have felt for HIM to not be able to respond to my command, even a more forceful one than usual.

We stopped setting up and took him to the emergency vet. We waited and waited. They said it seemed his heart was swollen and they needed to go in to see what was going on. It was going to be hours before they would get him in, and we asked if we could stay, but they told us to go home. I remember Chris hugging him on the floor of the emergency vet and me nudging him to hurry because the vet was standing there waiting on us. I pet our beautiful boy, and told him he was a good boy and we’d see him soon. I still remember looking back, Loki looking confused through the doorway of the surgery and kennel areas as we left him. I am bawling now remembering this was the last time I saw him. Bawling regretting that I rushed Chris trying to love on him for what would be the last time. That I didn’t get on the floor and squeeze him tight before I left. I just walked away, believing he would be okay.

We went home to try to finish prepping for the party. They later called and said they would be keeping him overnight. They found fluid around his heart and would be trying to drain it. We went to bed. At 3am they called and said he had arrested twice already on the table, and if we wanted to come say goodbye, we needed to come now. We were only 10 minutes away, but it was too long. He was already gone.

They let us see him. He was still warm. We both fell to the floor of the large open kennel and hugged and pet and kissed his lifeless body, told him how much we loved him, what a good dog he had been, thanked him for being OUR boy. The next day, we welcomed over 150 people to our house because it was too late to try to cancel. People kept asking where Loki was and we would just shake our head quietly and try not to talk about it. They instantly understood, but had no idea it was less than 16 hours before they arrived. Drink, host, move on. It’s all we could do.

We still keep his ashes, paw print, and collar on our mantle, next to his big sister’s (she died a few years later, almost to the day). He was just the best dog you could hope for. And you never fully get over that loss.

Reading about Rambo passing stirred up all those feels and harsh memories all over again. I know all too well this exact scenario, and it’s only harder on pet parents today who couldn’t even go in with their pet, or come back to say goodbye, due to COVID. A harsh pain on top of an already harsh pain.

Thanks for the memories, Rambo. And thanks for being our Good Boy, Loki.

Today is a day I think of Chris’ awesome Mom, Pat. I loved her, and am often struck by a deep sadness at how little time I got to get to know her before she passed. Pat loved all things from her Irish heritage. She gifted me a coin for in my shoe—in a little pouch embroidered with a shamrock—for my wedding day. She gifted us an Irish poem in a jade green colored frame, for our one year anniversary. She loved cooking for the holiday (well, any holiday), and when I am in the kitchen for special occasions, I often think of her loving preparations for her family. 

Even when she had so little, she was incredibly generous and thoughtful. And she raised two equally generous and thoughtful children, one of which I was blessed to marry, and the other his fierce-but-gentle sister, Stephanie. She gave of herself endlessly, both in physical manifestations as well as in her spirit. 

I think of today as “St Pat’ys Day”. Here’s to you, Mom! Slainte.

I grew up on board games. Yes Candyland and Hi Ho Cherry-o when we were little; then chess, checkers, Sorry, Monopoly ( a favorite of my father’s, who would pull it out when mom was out and he was the lone parent with 2-4 kids), and Uno (which was a fave of my grandparents’); but also Pit (a fave of my mother’s), Waterworks, Pass the Pigs, Yahtzee, Operation, Curse of the Mummy, Trivial Pursuit, and other “Parker Brothers era” family favorites. My parents had regular cribbage nights with friends, and I learned lots of basic cards games, as well, on camping trips with parents and grandparents.

As we became teens, my mom instituted family game night to try to keep her angsty kids from escaping to the Atari or Colecovision or the telephone with friends (and later online with BBSes—yes, I am that age). She also started an annual tradition at Thanksgiving, where we would go to the store to buy a new game, and learn it and play it after dinner. Her whole plan was to just try to keep us talking to each other. I loved those moments of being around the table, good food, people we loved around us. I was sold on the gaming, but was not a graceful loser, especially against my brother.

I got into social games in college (think games like Cranium, Scattergories, Pictionary, or ImagineIf), but then dated and married a guy who didn’t like “performance games” where he felt like he was in the spotlight. I thought it meant he didn’t like board games, and there was a dry spell for a while.

The game-changer? Pandemic. Finding cooperative games was HUGE for us—a guy who didn’t want to be alone in the spotlight, and a gal who was trying to learn to be a gracious loser. We discovered modern games offered even more of what we both enjoyed, and the addiction began.

Now we own over 450 games, a mix across a wide spectrum, and my shy partner-in-life loves to host people and teach them new games to play together. In my mind, we are just continuing a thread my parents started in my life, and I am so happy to have this to share together.

Why play it more than video games? We don’t necessarily. We love our PlayStation, Switch, and Steam gaming. It’s just a different way to play games together. But the bonus is board gaming, for us (pre-COVID, anyway), is including friends across a wider spectrum of tech savvy-ness and interests. I feel like board gaming casts a wider net, and when we can gather again, I look forward to hosting gaming parties again. In person. Totes in real time 3D.

(Pictured: Anachrony)