In June of 1998 my sister and niece were visiting, so I thought breakfast at a hotel restaurant on the beach would be a pleasant start for a day of fun and relaxation. After breakfast I asked what everyone wanted to do. Walk along the Boardwalk? Stroll at the edge of the water? Shopping in the local shops? Each idea was met with not much enthusiasm. As I was thinking of some other activity my niece would enjoy, I “heard” a voice in my mind say: “Go to Animal Control.” I heard it as plain as if someone was standing next to me. I immediately asked if they would want to go to Animal Control (clear on the other side of town), and they both eagerly sat up with eager yeses.

On the drive over to the shelter I decided to look at dogs, thinking I might adopt a companion for my two year old female lab/pit mix, Nikita. Once there, we all fell in love with a two month old white lab/pit mix puppy. There were six names on his potential adopters list – each one crossed out. We took him home then and there. Ares (who was always more of a love bug than a god of war) was full of fleas and had a bad case of worms. My niece and I gave him a 20 minute bath, taking care of all the fleas, and my sister got worming medicine from my Vet the next day, which took care of the worms.

Ares was a little ball of energy and wonderful playmate for Nikita. He was also what I call a “mudder”. He LOVED rolling around in as much mud as he could find, which he always managed to do! I swear I could have taken him to the desert, and he would find mud! Not water, mind you, but mud.

Over the years Ares was a constant companion to me. I had a bond with him like no other. I literally trusted him with my life. He always looked out for me. There were a couple of times he got into a fight with one of my other dogs (an alpha wanna be), and I had no qualms whatsoever with jumping right in and physically ending the fight. I knew he would never harm me.

Ares crossed over the Rainbow Bridge on 23 August 2010. He had had a very sudden onset of canine vestibular syndrome which degenerated to the point where he could not walk at all. It was one of the saddest moments of my life, but I knew I had to let him go – for his sake. I was with him through to the end, lying on the floor next to him in my Vet’s office, as he passed on to the next life.

You try not to have favorites. Especially among your furry children, as they sense your feelings and thoughts. But even after almost two years, I still miss and mourn my wonderful Ares. He was one of a kind. Extremely unique. And to this day, I believe with my whole heart that if I were ever in extreme danger, I could call his name, and he would come to my rescue.
LMCofVAbeach LMCofVAbeach
61-65, F
2 Responses Jun 24, 2012

Find comfort in the knowledge that Ludlow's later years were full of love and happiness because of you and your family. I believe if he could speak with you now, he would thank you for that. He is never really gone from you. As long as you remember him, he will always be near.

What a lovely story of love! So sad to read about his end, but you were with him and he knew how much you loved him.<br />
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I've just posted my story today about the loss of my beloved Chow Chow, Ludlow. My heart is broken and yet he died peacefully in his own comfy bed, so I'm trying so hard to let him go. I'm reading all the stories and gaining support from others who understand my pain.