Oliver (2004 - 2018)

Oliver once swam half way across the lake to get to the boat, where a bunch of us were enjoying the summer sun. It was a surprising feat, and not only because he wasn't a young dog when it happened. Even more than the physical effort it would require, it was surprising that he had the gumption to do it. Oliver was a gentle soul, but as is often the case, he had more mettle than first appearances would suggest. He also had a playful side. When he was a puppy, he used to steal a single sock from the bed room, and trot triumphantly into the living room with it, as both a trophy and a taunt to start a game. It's easy to think he grew out of that playfulness, but I think he maintained a piece of it throughout his life. If you didn't watch him, when it was just the dogs outside at the cottage, he would wrestle with Arthur and Jada. Growling and roughhousing with his younger, more agile cousins. Again, not a crazy thing for most dogs, but something that you wouldn't think he would do if you only knew him briefly. There's a popular phrase now, "Living your best life". It's a little cheesy, a little new age-y medicine, often a mantra of self-empowerment pablum. But I'll use it anyway. Oliver lived his best life. Fourteen years on this earth, close to the people he loved, with a good home and a comfortable bed, walks in the bush and swimming in the lake. The world can be a mean and brutish place sometimes, so while I'm saddened by his passing, it's comforting to know that a gentle soul lived well.