We've been taking care of Bambi for a couple of years, now. When we started, her brother, Chunk, was also in the picture. Great (in every sense of the word) Danes. Chunk passed a while back, and Bambi became a big sister to her new cocker spaniel brother, Koko. He's feisty...all puppy.
We were supposed to take care of Bambi this weekend while Koko went to burn off some wild energy with his parents at the lake.
But we got the call.
"Our beloved Bambi had to be put to sleep today. Her left lung was full of fluid, and the vet suspected cancer...we're so sorry."
You're sorry? The thing is, these awesome pet parents knew the bond we had with Bambi. She was unique, and so was our relationship with her. It was often a family affair, but it was actually my husband who took care of her most, and it was the two of them that had the most special bond. She would eat well for him, romp with him, and get over-the-moon excited when he came around. She'd let me take care of her as second fiddle, and she'd allow me to cuddle with her on her bed (which was large enough to accommodate the both of us) out of some sense of obligation, I presume, but it was with Brennen that she was truly in love. And he in love with her. I knew it was a source of pride that she favored him. Our clients knew that, and while I did my best to send my condolences her way, she sent just as many to us, recognizing our loss.
Bambi was a sweet girl to the core, though quite camera-shy. I would try my best to photograph her but not violate her space. She seemed to know if I was fake-texting in order to capture her image on my iPhone. Brains and beauty, that one had.
We last saw her two weeks ago, and I was able to capture her with her jumbo-dog toy, which is about the size of my four-year-old daughter.
We talk about what a shame it is that Great Danes have such limited life spans. Such big hearts, so much love, yet so little time. Bambi, you were one of the greats.