Banjo, how could I have known that you would leave me so suddenly and before you grew old. You had never been sick a day in your life. We had just gone on a 5-mile hike three days before. I took you to the vet thinking that maybe you had a virus or something. Four hours later you were dead of internal bleeding from undiagnosed liver cancer as we tried to rush you to another clinic that had a blood bank. And I didn't even know you were dying as we rode together in the back of that van in slow moving traffic. Had I known, I would have taken you home earlier. I never had a chance to say goodbye. It all happened too fast and I am still in shock.
Banjo, there never was and never can be another dog like you. I have known many dogs, but none with the depth of intelligence and ability to think, reason, and ponder, an almost telepathic ability to communicate, and the gentlest and kindest inner being. I used to love to just watch you think, that trademark movement of your eyes acting as a subtle conduit into the complex thoughts swirling within. And as a golden retriever with an almost regal posture - you could easily have been a show dog. So many people marveled at your beauty and were awed by how bright you were. You were unique - you might have been a turning point in canine evolution had you had offspring.
I hardly had to teach you a thing - you always figured everything out yourself. Basic dog-training skills were almost too easy for you. You had to invent new challenges, like digging with your mouth, or carrying 4 tennis balls or other combinations of multiple toys at once. You were always such a show-off. Yet these inventions delighted and amazed all that met you.
You may have taught me more than I taught you. Most of all you taught me so much about love. So much of myself I saw in you. You were like a son to me. No, you WERE my son.
Many who knew you have mourned your passing and the loss is a profound one for this planet. In our own family, Janiene and I are devastated and Janiene is heartbroken that she didn't see you at the end. Sutter and Magic seem to know you are gone and are both terribly depressed.
We buried you with toys, and I hope wherever you are that you have more toys than you can carry at once, and lots of squirrels to chase and many gopher holes to dig up and a boundless supply of fresh bread. And I pray you will meet me by the Rainbow Bridge, as I will come there looking for you when it is my time. I want you to know the depth of my love for you and that my wish is, above any other, to be reunited with you. Trust in my guardian angel, and Sue and other friends there in the meantime who will see to it that you are well taken care of, and who will help you wait for me.
Bob Schlesinger