Go kennel, Roman.

Ireland,

Texas was hot and humid in the summer. Very hot, and very humid. I was starting to get on in age. Eventually I decided i needed to move on. But where?

It was early August 2006. It was very very hot. I was in my apartment wit the ac set to 78* because 68* cost another $150 a month. I was considering quitting my wrecking job and getting back in to tech as a last resort. I already had done a short contract in St Louis Missouri in 2006, so going back wouldn't have been painful, aside from all the travel and the office time.

While I was considering this I saw ROman do something he hadn't done before. He was whining, apparently for no reason I could see. I took him to a vet, but they said he is just getting old.

Several weeks later he jumped from my truck and injured his leg pretty badly. The vet put him back together, but once the wound healed, it was obvious what his problem was. He had contracted OsteoSarcoma. Very common in large breed dogs like Greyhounds that live to his age(he was nearly 11). Though it became steadily worse, I looked after him until the suffering was just too much for both of us to bear. I had never in my life had to put down an animal I loved. I put it off as much as i dared, but one day he was in such bad shape... such bad shape.

I took him to the vet. He hated the vet, so it took some urging to get him to go inside. I didn't want to put him down the way some of my Texas friends had put their dogs down. It was painless when done right, but I thought ROman deserved better than a bullet, even if I am perfectly fine with one ending my life. Still, I think he deserved better. To go peacefully.

I cried. I made an absolute fool of myself at the clinic. I couldn't help but to feel I had betrayed him. It was profoundly saddening. I told him I loved him so much, and was so thankful of the meaning he gave my life. I told him I missed him. I tell him that a lot now.

I went home, I drank all day and I cried...

Later that night, when I calmed down and ran out of energy, I began to wonder what to do with the rest of my life. I didn't want to live in Texas any more. I wanted to try something new. After a time, it occurred to me - I wanted to live in Ireland. At least for a while.

Within 2 weeks I had sold everything I owned, and got a job as a tow truck driver in DUblin Ireland via an on-line application. Within 3 weeks, I was living in Ireland. I had lived there for a short stint back in 1998, what could possibly be different 10 years later?

It took nearly 3 years, but eventually I got up the nerve to create a memorial for Roman:  http://www.pbase.com/wyk/roman

http://www.pbase.com/wyk/ireland_part2