*** ARCHIBALD FLUBBERFORD BRINDLETON *** (2013-2023)
Hello, dearest friends and neighbors…
We could not be more heartbroken to share with you that our beloved Archie passed away in the early afternoon hours of November 22.
It was all very sudden. He did not suffer. But, we are still very much in shock. In fact, we have to admit we are absolutely shattered.
We were the luckiest people in the world to have spent a decade with such a handsome, soothing presence and a soul that felt brighter and warmer than the sun. Knowing he chose us to be his “Mum” and “Pop” was perhaps the greatest gift we will ever receive.
How he managed to pack so much love, kindness, enthusiasm, and gentle care into only 25 pounds of glorious flubber we will never know. He looked like a dog. But, he wasn’t.
We’ve known many, many dogs in our lives. Archie was such an unusual… person. And we will profoundly miss his magic and his loving aura every day.
He lives on in our hearts and we hope you’ll keep him in your hearts too.
Always and forever.
H❤️H❤️H❤️
Archie has been a picture of health for most of his life. And even as recently as just a few days before his passing, people were shocked that he was almost eleven years old. He didn’t look it. He recently had a thorough checkup and passed with flying colours.
Unfortunately, that check-up did not include x-rays.
We honestly thought he might be a dog that could live to be twenty. And we were prepared to do everything possible to make that happen. But… it was not to be.
In less than two weeks, he went from running and sprinting through the trails of his favourite parks and jumping up onto beds and chairs and benches with effortless ease… to suffering from the advanced effects of IVDD in such a manner that his life was very quickly threatened. And then over.
He was 100% Archie right to the end. He absolutely used up his burly little body - without complaint - until there was nothing left to give.
Mirabelle also suffered from IVDD. Her case was much more acute and severe and required immediate surgical intervention. She was a real fighter and came back from that traumatic experience to do quite well for a while.
Archie’s case was much different and much more dire. There was no way to even slow his decline.
Archie never complained. Ever. He never presented in a way that would tell us he was in pain and he was always keen to keep moving and to stick to our regular routines. He would go on walks almost daily and never once showed any sign of trouble. And it was this attribute of his that made his exit both shocking and - thankfully - humane.
We always lifted him down from from surfaces, and carried him down the stairs. One day he stopped jumping up onto the bed. And then he would not climb the stairs into our apartment. He would stand at the bottom of the stairs or the base of our bed and ask to be picked up. Which, of course, we did happily. He stopped doing zoomers (sprinting).
We were concerned about the sudden change in his abilities and his energy. So we took him in for a thorough “once over” and had x-rays taken that revealed the worst possible news.
Archie’s spine was a mess. It was obvious that he had already suffered from slipped discs multiple times over the years - but never once complained or slowed down. We had no idea. We were horrified.
What could we have done to prevent this? The answer was…
Nothing.
Ultimately, his condition was so advanced as was his age, that surgery was not an option. He quickly lost the ability to walk. His back legs shut down. And then other bodily systems started to shut down as well. We won’t share all the details here. Just know we consulted MANY excellent care providers in desperate hopes of finding a solution that would keep him going with us.
But, there was none to be found. All of the facts kept telling us in no uncertain terms that nothing we could do was going to make a difference. His condition was going to keep getting worse. Rapidly.
It was so painful to have to accept that if we tried to slow his passing even a little, it would only make him suffer longer. We had no choice but to let him go. Hope for him to recover left the equation very quickly and it became all about helping Archie make the transition as comfortably as he possibly could.
Our selfish wants to keep him with us never even had a chance to manifest. There was no battle to fight. And we would never let him suffer, no matter what. We had no choice but to surrender. And that killed us.
Despite his condition, he never stopped loving food. He kept eating. So we fed him like a king. All of his favorites and even a few things he was never allowed to eat because of his Frenchie allergies. Blueberries. Cucumber. Stinky fish heads (freeze-dried minnows) covered in cheese. We did everything we could to spoil him with delicious treats for his last days.
The last consultation we made was with a very special healer and communicator that our family has known and loved for decades. We needed her help to sit with him as a family and to “speak” with Archie one last time and to make sure he understood what was happening.
He did of course. We were the ones having trouble accepting what was happening. He was calm and… ready.
He told us he loved us. He thanked us. And when he told us that he had completed his mission and that it was time for him to go, we exploded into uncontrollable tears. We thanked him. For everything. For literally everything he had brought to us over the years that we were lucky enough to live together.
Of course, he remained his happy, stoic self through it all. We did our best not to crumble when he needed us the most. It was the least we could do for this incredible, magical little man who for a decade has been the glue that held our family together. Archie was, without question, the most constant, predictable, and dependable part of our life and we really thought - we hoped - he might live forever.
He was our “son”, our baby boy, but also somehow our mentor and protector. A wise old wizard helping us cope with the world every single day. The world can be cruel and intimidating, but he never failed to show us how beautiful and wonderful it was as well.
He was our lighthouse.
And, he was also our “sun”. And, we had to prepare ourselves very quickly for the fact that our sun was about to go out.
We brought Archie home from that session and trembled and wailed into the phone as we called an in-home service to come and help him cross over. While we waited, family members came to visit him and to say goodbye.
The staff of the in-home service were perfect. So very gentle and patient and so sensitive to what we were going through. They moved very slowly and explained everything clearly. And, at every stage, they asked if we would like some more time alone.
Of course, we did. But, it wasn’t enough. A decade was not enough. A very full life of joy and wonder and adventure and laughter with Archie would never be enough.
He went to sleep. To the Dreamingplace. Then over the bridge to meet Mirabelle in Rainbow Valley where I’m sure he’s already been elected as Mayor.
Thank you to everyone who reads this. If you followed Archie online for any of those years leading up to his retirement (2013 to 2020), we want you to know how much we appreciate you and your encouragement in celebrating the amazing and magical creature we knew simply as “Archie.”
Your love and support meant and still mean the world to us.
Our notice for Mirabelle’s passing was longer and included more photos and thoughts and we have to apologize because we just aren’t up for anything more than this right now. It’s too much.
And nothing we could say would ever be enough.
If you would like to revisit Archie’s life and all the major milestones of his decade-long adventure, please visit the post titled “A Brindlebunch Retrospective”.
Thanks again, everyone. Be well, don’t waste a minute of your life. Tell those you love that you love them. Show them how much you love them every single day and never let the darkness and strife so common today extinguish the love in your heart.
Archie would tell you we are here to love, to learn, to explore, and grow. And to do it with a gentle kindness in your heart at all times.
He remains our inspiration and our aspirational avatar and perhaps he can help you navigate your days as well. That would be nice. He’ll meet you in the Dreamingplace whenever you need his warmth or wisdom. He loved to love. And so, with that, we’d like to say…
