Thread by @TrebuchetOps

A year ago today we brought home Bruce, my Songbirdy Herbgerblin Boi, to foster and care for. On Thursday I lay face to face with him, held him close and talked to him until his heart beat for the last time.

I wanna share some of my memories of him with you while I can. <3

This is the first evidence of him I had in my phone - a video from when we first met him at the humane society, wherein he tries to get off the nose loop of his slip lead while we play in an enclosed space together.

I loved him immediately, the big goofy boy.

Here we are in the lobby while we go through the paperwork for bringing him home to foster. He was excited and curious and distractable but so fucking sweet.

On the ride him he was very tempted to get into his food and toys and flopping around a bit as he didn't know how to ride in a car. He kinda got the hang of this, eventually.

My first day working again with Bruce now sharing my office with me. He was looking for a toy dragon on my desk, which I had put up earlier once he decapitated the dragon in the first two minutes of playing with it.

I let him out back to go potty and play and he immediately found the largest branch in the yard, dragged it towards the shade, and laid down with it. He loved it, but found it a little hard to carry.

Here, my spouse is teaching him some initial tricks while her service dog, Godiva, looks on. We were doing this training to help stimulate and focus him and get him used to listening and being touched.

We taught him to Leave It, helping with his patience and focus. He was a sneakyboi though, and clever, and fast. <3

We used to sit on the couch together and watch anime and youtube and netflix. He never quite learned how to lay into your lap properly so instead he would sit next to you then fall over onto you, a warm and loving weight. Sometimes, he'd sleep this way.

Here he is impressively excited with whatever mom is doing in the kitchen - I think she was getting some ice water? He *loved* eating ice cubes like cookies.

And now begins his long love affair with curtains, starting here with his belief that they function as an invisibility cloak. He would occasionally be surprised that I could find him.

Here he is playing on the couch with Godiva - they could play for hours together and often napped together.

Bruce couldn't decide if he wanted the cookie I was offering or his kong more - I wanted to help get his slip lead off but he had been... focused.

He loved peanut butter like he was a cartoonish caricature of a dog and his kong was probably his favorite toy ever.

When he first came to stay with us one of the things we were working with him on was his severe kennel anxiety, he'd never been properly crate trained before (aside: crate train your fucking puppies) and when he got anxious he got destructive. He only got one blanket at a time.

Here he is on his very first day of canine good citizenship training, about to be entirely tuckered out, physically and mentally. I will always cherish the work we did together in the hot summer sun, but boy howdy did neither of us look forward to the heat.

One of the first bits of homework we had to do was tethering, where we put him on a short chain in the house while we sit nearby and ignore (but watch) him. It helped to calm him down and help him understand being calm indoors, but he hated it at first & tried to chew the chain.

And here is how his kong ended up with the flippant nickname "butthole" in our house as he works just _the hardest_ to get all the peanutbutter out. In this case he's tired from training, I'll dig up more energetic examples downthread.

That blanket from before? He did eventually tear it up out of boredom, so when I took it away he found the next softest, comfiest surface in my office... my duffel bag in the closet.

He did, eventually, come to enjoy the tether... or at least he never stopped loving to nap after a hard day of training and walking and playing.

When Bruce realized he could mashup his love of curtains with sitting on the duffel bag the world changed

He became determined to master invisibility, though... admittedly... he never quite did.

He was impossible to shame, of course, doing whatever seemed sensible to him at the time. Watching him try to unravel the secrets of invisibility was adorable.

While sleeping in his kennel, his leg got trapped under the bars. He tried to roll over, it stayed stuck, and he panicked, nearly breaking his own leg in terror. I helped him get it unstuck and we bandaged him up but he... did not like having things on his legs...

We couldn't get him to leave the bandage alone while we were sleeping so we got him a cone and he was so disappointed in his circumstances.

He started wanting to sleep between my legs while I worked at my desk. I can't tell you how many hours we spent like this, me working and trying not to shuffle onto him while he laid there close to me. Sometimes he'd scoot away from my feet but stay nearby.

This is the first time I managed to capture this particular Herbgerblin behavior on camera - Bruce would roll onto his back, growl and chuff, and flail wildly into the air, eventually sneeze, and roll over like nothing happened.

The slowest, most controlled tail catch I ever caught him making. He was distracted from his pursuit of invisibility by an itchy behind.

he often hopped up onto my footstool, planted himself between me and my desk, and tried to figure out just what the hell dad was doing that was so much more interesting than playing or napping with him.

the handsomest wriggleworm, Bruce more than once crawled under my stool (I have a static standing desk, so sit on a barstool when my feet get tired) to relax as close to me as possible. It was not an easy position to escape...

He also had a habit of hopping up and putting his full weight down on my arm (via his big goofy sharkhead) to convince me that it was time to play and/or feed him.

He also could not figure out just what it was about this ball he wasn't allowed to play with that kept dad so damn busy; but if he could block it, dad would have to play!

"No dad, you can't sit here, I'm too fucking handsome for you to sit here"

We moved the rug from our living room to under my desk specifically so he could be comfier.

Hours and weeks of training paid off and Bruce got his Canine Good Citizen certificate. He never knew or cared but I was so fucking proud of him for all the work he had done to this point.

He really was a cuddle bug, pictured here napping with my wife on the couch, never concerned about how oddly contorted his body would get as he sought Optimal Snuggle Positioning

After mom got up though, he sprawled out with a quickness and an utterly serene lack of fucks

My footstool is actually a document container but whatever, Bruce just used it to get closer to eye level and put himself between me and the desk anyway

At some point, Bruce made a critical discovery: curtains are not just invisibility cloaks, they can also be Blankies of Last Resort

Hey, dad? Are you working?

Oh, okay, I see...

Do you have to be working *right now*??

"Have I been playing with toys? Uhhhhh, I do not recall at this time, is there a reason you're asking me?"

Sitting on the couch, Bruce went after one of Ash's socks, got his nose in it a bit, so we pulled it up over his snoot

He was not expecting this at all

His sister, famous in our house for picking up socks off the floor and carrying them to anyone who will see them, tried to get in on the action

He did manage to get free and then chew it up but it was An Effort

He always had allergy problems and we were working with him to help with hot spots. Unfortunately, one morning I walked into my office to let him out and he had a tube of tennis balls dangling between his legs.

He gave himself a hotspot on his undercarriage which then got a staph infection, to which he had an allergic reaction. We got him steroids and antibiotics and had to cone him up again, which he did not like.

He *did* still love sticks though

On the way to the dog park, Bruce got very excited and started putting his head as far forward over the seats as he could to the point he'd kinda choke himself a little, hack violently, and repeat pretty much the whole ride

Godiva was confused by his behavior

A couple hours of playing hard, running around chasing balls and learning about being surrounded by other people and dogs, and Bruce got *very* tuckered

No, really, VERY tuckered

Back home, his infection flared back up because the antibiotics course wasn't long enough, so on went the cone again

Here, finally (somehow????) is the first clip I found for how he earned his songbird nickname (though he'd been singing since we got him). I believe this one was entitled "Dad, Kindly Take This Fucking Thing Off So I Can Lick My Itchy Nuts & Also Can I Have Peanut Butter, Stat?"

We discovered that, while we couldn't reliably play tugowar with him, we could play with him by touching his head while he had a bone in his mouth (he's carrying one end of kong bone he chewed thru), he'd jump around and play growl and exhibit boundless energy this way

Do, *I* want some peanut butter???

I want all of the peanut butter, actually, and I'd like it if you kindly left me to my vices

This is where and how we spent the vast majority of our time together, me working from home with him nearby. My office was his bedroom and he was a phenomenally loveable roommate. I hope I was half as good to him in that exchange!

He literally crawled forward along the wall, then used the bookshelf as leverage to push off and back himself up to wrap around my footstool. I remember being annoyed because he'd sometimes shift the bookshelf out of alignment.

Check those Herbgerblin ears though!!

I see you're working but have you considered...

Giving me pets instead???? I'll accept peanut butter as a substitute, I _guess_

He had a little trouble catching his tail because of the invisibility curtain; the look on his face at the end is just *priceless*

The automatic gif that it made from that video is probably my single favorite gif of all time and is, in fact, footage of me trying to do game design. Bruce nailed his impression of me, I think!

Dad, I hear you, I know you've just fed me, I understand we've been on a walk already, but have you considered PLAYING MORE?? YOU HAVE TO HELP ME.....

FOR I HAVE LOST MY BELOVED KONG

LET ME SING YOU MY SONG OF SORROW AND DESIREE

Thank you for retrieving my baw-baws, now play with me as I definitely don't run into things due to lack of situational awareness and excitemeent

Back on the couch with the Herbgerblin, snuggling and being a little silly

He had such a big shark head with such gerblin ears you couldn't help but wanna munch on em

You can see the scars from his leg getting trappeed a bit better here - no loss of function, just a pair of scars. He did love cuddling up though!

Sometimes the light from my window came in just right and Bruce would nap there, warm and cozy and close.

Hey, Dad! What's uhhhh

Up here is it food?

No, I uh.... was just.... looking...

PAPA YOU TASTE GOOOOOD

In which he sings a song titled "LET ME OUT NOW I KNOW YOU HAVE PEOPLE OVER AND I DESERVE THEIR ATTENTION"

There wasn't always enough space on the couch for Bruce and Godiva both; Bruce had no concept of personal space so he'd just lay halfway on you, and Godiva, being older and patient, would just slide off the couch and keep napping.

Bruce on the Couch in three phases:

1. Playfully laying, flailing
2. Sitting, falling into the couch, getting sleepy
3. Passed the fuck out in apparent rigor mortis

In which we see a couple of Bruce's defining traits I'll remember for ever:

1. Bonking open doors with zero regard for his own safety
2. The way he almost always sat back a step or two
3. The waterfall that would start whenever he was waiting to eat.

Playing with him often involved just touching his head and talking to him while he flailed around energetically, being very vocal.

He would play right up until he was too tired to continue, then he'd just kinda stand and breathe. If you picked up the toy, he couldn't help but start playing again.

Teaching him targeting and doing this to get him focused and calmed down was something I did regularly.

He was just so fucking handsome, you know? What a beautiful fucking boy.

It's a little hard to tell here, but a squirrel escaped his chase and ran up the tree. This motherfucker tried to climb the tree, leaping up at it and trying to scramble up at the first fork. Here he is, pictured standing against the shed and looking up at the taunting squirrel

Dad, I'll ask again: Are you ABSOLUTELY SURE you don't wanna play???????

Here is what I think of as The Definitive Herbgerblin Look, particularly that goofy open mouthed one.

He lost his toys under the coffee bar surprisingly often and would require my aid.

After a storm a branch fell and Bruce decided to be every meme of a dog with a too-big branch. He *loved* to be chased.

Here you can hear the chirping song "Dad, I Promise To Chew Everything While You Shop For Groceries, Just Let Me Roam"

I hated having him sleep on just those steel bars, but we couldn't leave him with blankets or towels either. We bought a rubber horse stall mat and cut it to fit half the kennel for him.

Bruce eventually learned he could come to the bathroom window if I let him out before I went myself and sing to be let in.

"It is just so exhausting watching dad work all day ugghhhhhh"

He could be SO SERIOUS about his food (he had some food aggression, which we discovered when I got bit) but this was entirely unexpected and so goddamn cute

Bruce interrupted me on a work call to let me know that, hey, actually, the problem with JIRA is that it doesn't have enough peanut butter and actually speaking of peanut butter...

Just a couple shots of my lovely boy in the sunshine by my feet

"Dad stop washing your hands and let me in"

NB: Peanut butter is GOOD STUFF

Dad, I see you are "working" again but have you considered

You could give me peanut butter instead????

"Peanut Butter, Walks, or Play Time, But One of Them Now Please" by Bruce

Unlike me, Bruce was often cold and would do his best to find comfy blankies wherever he laid down

He did get distracted from being cozy by the sound of the laundry machine, I think

Godiva and Bruce cuddled up, napping in the office before we bought Bruce his own bed (since he stopped destroying things outside his kennel)

Dad, I know you're making coffee, but have you considered instead giving me cookies? Let's go play!! Or eat. I could eat.

Sometimes he'd affectionately nibble on a finger and very gently play with you and it was one of the sweetest things. His jaws were strong enough to crush bone but he'd just carefully play with you and make lots of sounds.

He wasn't always alone in invading my office for attention, sometimes Godiva would team up with him to get me to play

Couch time was some of the time I coveted most with Bruce, lounging around being lazy bois together, but being by the window, he was also often watchful, curious as always about literally everything all the time (unless he had peanut butter)

He liked sleeping by his sisters and never cared if a pillow fell over onto his big sharkhead

I really, truly don't think there was a single day I worked once he came home with us that he didn't try to interrupt my day to remind me to give a little more love

That's a lesson I'm going to carry with me forever: we always, always have a few seconds to show some love

Bruce was clever has hell - when it got cold outside, he realized it was *less cold* sitting up off the bricks, so he hopped onto the stacked patio chairs to wait to be let in

It only snowed properly once while he was with us, so we *of course* gave him a snowball; at first, he had no idea wtf was going on

After a while though, he discovered he actually like snow nearly as much as ice cubes.

We bought him a bed, finally, for outside his kennel (he still couldn't be trusted not to destroy anything *in* the kennel, but he'd stop tearing up random stuff) and he... had no fucking clue what to do with a bed. He did this for about ten minutes.

But, a true herbgerblin boi, he did figure it out and then show everyone just how comfy it is possible to get

Something you may have noticed in the prior posts is that the bed was right by an old friend - the invisibility cloak/blankets, hanging from the wall.

He never liked being cold but he *did* like being called handsome.

In february, after he'd shown no interest in destroying his fluffy bed, we got him a blanket to also use.

He fucking loved it so much.

Granted, he was my herbgerblin boi, so he didn't exactly know how to use a blanket like other dogs

or maybe he had the secret knowledge of blankets??

He managed to combine his two loves: being comfywarm and licking peanutbutter

CW: Pet Death

That was the first video I have of him from last Thursday, around 3PM, when I knew I was going to have to keep a promise I'd made to him all those months ago when he first had an aggressive incident: that if we couldn't help him, I wouldn't let him be alone.

CW: Pet Death

So for the rest of that afternoon I stayed glued to his side, giving him treats and snuggles and playing with him. I filled his kongs and gave them to him until we had no more peanut butter and it didn't feel like enough.

CW: Pet Death

I told him over and over again what a good boy he was and how much I loved him and did anything and everything I thought he would want to do. Apologies for the audio in the rest of these, I'm either crying or on the verge of it for all of them.

CW: Pet Death

He had no way of knowing what was coming but he did know I was upset and I think that upset him too, a little - though I tried to distract him with more play and treats.

I think I went through more than half a bag of cookies with him that afternoon.

CW: Pet Death

I made sure to get some kisses and nibbles from him and to play and always, always to tell him how good and loved he was.

CW: Pet Death

I sat by his kennel and on the edge of his bed and cried so hard my ribs hurt and he came over, sat down next to me and, because he never did learn to lay on your lap, he leaned into me and kissed my face. I think the salty stuff tasted good to him.

CW: Pet Death

I'm going to think about those minutes on that bed holding him and shaking and loving him and wishing I was god because all I fucking wanted was to make this not happen, to not have to say goodbye, & he just blithely kissed me and snuggled & he was so fucking good.

CW: Pet Death

He loved car rides and didn't mind seeing the vet and had no idea what was going to happen, he was just happy to be in the car. I rode in the back with him and watched him flop around and be a goof the whole way

CW: Pet Death

This is the last image I have of my beautiful herbgerblin boi, my lovely songbird, before we walked in. He was so fucking handsome and good. He wanted to know why I was making all those weird face sounds again.

CW: Pet Death

I'll never forget every detail of his death, I hope that some day soon I can stop seeing it when I lay down to sleep, but the thing that matters is I kept my promise and he wasn't alone.

CW: Pet Death

The last thing he heard was my voice, the last thing he felt was my hand, the last thing he saw was my face.

I was left alone with him for a while but without his life the room just felt so wrong. I kissed him over and over and cried and captured one last photo.

CW: Pet Death

I held his paw and knew that the world was changed and that I was changed and that it wasn't fair and nothing is fair and that there's so many people and animals suffering so much worse and I just fell apart for a while.

CW: Pet Death

His name was Bruce. He loved playing and walking and talking and peanut butter and ice cubes and comfy blankets and hiding behind curtains and interrupting work and flailing and snuggling and kissing and eating and singing his warbling song.

CW: Pet Death

His name was Bruce and he is fucking missed.

PS: I'm reading all the comments but won't have the bandwidth to reply to all of them. Thank you, sincerely, for your kindness and your warmth. Love those close to you, folx. Please.

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