Three years ago today we said goodbye to our beloved dog Rulo after a six month battle with lymphoma.
I don’t have the time or emotional wherewithal to give Rulo the introduction he deserves, but he was a sweet, funny Chiweenie boy who brought us much joy.
In early February of that year he was diagnosed and started treatment. He went into remission for a bit, but ultimately it came back with a vengeance and by July the end was near.
On the morning that turned out to be his final day, I was laying in bed with him and noticed that a local rescue I follow on Instagram had a live video. It was early on a Sunday and I wondered what they could be doing.
They were receiving a transport of 30+ dogs from Tijuana, Mexico. I watched as they were taken out of the van and placed in a big grassy lot to run around, decompress and do cute doggy things. It was touching knowing they were bound for new loving homes in the coming weeks and months.
I had a little cry and didn’t think much of it, we were playing it day by day with Rulo and at that point we weren’t sure if he would make it through the day.
It’s not like I saw her and thought “that’s our dog”, the video was a blur of sweet doggies, and I had other things on my mind. But what a lovely, and bittersweet, coincidence.