My favorite pal has licked his last spoonful of icecream. After a week of pain, when his lungs could barely breathe another breath, he was quietly put to sleep yesterday morning at the West Blvd Vet in Kerrisdale – his first doctor in Vancouver.
As I stroked his sweet lil head in his final moments, my heart exploded with sweet lil memories…
…like the time that he ate 3months of Nana’s heart meds and Bro + I had to rush him to the vet while he was as hiiiiiiiiiigh as a kite!
…like the time that he ate 24 cupcakes right off the kitchen table, wrappers included, the night before my best friend’s birthday.
…like those 2 marathons we trained for together, when he never ran on a leash and would stop for his own treat whenever I had a gel. Oh, or that time that I came home and he had consumed an entire box of 24 power bar gels!
…how about the adventures – the guy had been ocean kayaking (sitting in my lap nonetheless!) , loved to camp (especially if he got to sleep on the air mattress!), road trips galore, ran on the beaches of Oregon, hiked the trails of Whistler and got seriously drunk on Ontario-cottage-country-fresh-air. He had been smuggled thru the border on multiple occasions; patiently awaited me at too-many-to-count finish lines and always had a post-race ice cream cone. (Heck, the guy just knew how to always appreciate an ice cream cone!)
…he was a smart lil stinker. He knew the Tim Horton’s drive thru meant that he was going to get 3 timbits; he knew what 61km/hr felt like in the car and anything less wasn’t quite a road trip yet; he knew how to meticulously punch out gum from packets and proceed to poo gum bubbles!
He was Willy Corker, named affectionately after the Free Willy the Whale. He taught us that everything is recoverable (i’m pretty sure he had at least 5 serious come backs in his 16 years of living!); treats are simply a necessity of life and there is always enough love to go around.
Jason says it best….I was lucky to come home to you Willster…
His sweet ashes will be picked up next week. They will most likely make the trek to Penticton to keep the iron-spirit alive and will most likely be spread off the coast of Hawaii together with Bro. If anyone knew Aloha, Willy knew ALOHA! RIP lil pal. xo
PS – Pop’s says he will take you for another walk when he meets you in heaven….we always knew that walks with Frank were killer:)