I can barely define the shape of this moment in time

Last night, our dog, Riley, died. Today would have been her thirteenth birthday.

Riley had a long and wonderful life. She lived much longer than the person who locked her in a closet at a motel that was being torn down thought she would, and though she could be a huge pain in the ass, she was an important part of our family.

Riley was anxious and nervous to the point of being neurotic. She was terrified of the garden hose, had terrible arthritis in all of her joints, and was almost completely deaf. Still, she was happy these last few months, getting to sleep on a the couch whenever she wanted, or sleeping at my feet while I worked in my office. She didn’t want to play very much, but when she did I’d swear she was ten years younger. She still liked to take walks, but she was slow and stayed so close to Anne and me, she hadn’t needed a leash for almost a year.

She wasn’t crazy about Marlowe, and I think Marlowe knew it. Marlowe has so much energy, I think she sort of scared Riley, who was brittle and nervous as a result of it. But Marlowe always tried to help calm Riley down. She would lick her face and nuzzle her all the time, and she stayed out of Riley’s way the rest of the time.

Riley was the last direct connection we had to Ryan and Nolan’s childhoods. She has been part of their lives for so long, through so much and so many things, they lost a member of their family even more intensely than I did, and I have a huge IMADOG hole in my heart right now.

I want to take a second and share a moment Riley and I had several years ago, right after our dog Ferris had died. I was alone in our house because Anne was out of town, Ryan was in college, and Nolan was busy being a teenager. Ferris had died the day before, practically in my arms, in the lobby of the vet:

I saw Ferris’ empty dish last night when I fed Riley, and it unleashed an agonizing wave of sadness so overwhelming, I dropped to the floor in our living room and cried as hard and as long as I ever have in my life.

After she was finished eating, Riley came over to me and sniffed at my face. Through my tears and gasping sobs, I told her it was okay, I just missed Ferris a lot and I was sad.

She rubbed her face against my cheek and trotted into the family room. A moment later, she returned with her soggy tennis ball, which she gently put into my lap. She looked up at me, and then walked into the corner of the family room, where she picked up her rope – her favorite toy, which she brings with her to the front door whenever we come home – and brought it over to me. She set it on the ground next to me, and then laid down and put her head in my lap. I cried for a good long time, but I was comforted by Riley’s actions, even if I’m projecting my own feelings onto her. I felt like she could tell I was grieving, so she brought me the things that make her happy, before letting me cry on her until the fur on her neck was soaked with my tears. When I finally stopped, mostly because I was physically and emotionally exhausted, I felt a tiny bit better.

Riley was a pain in the ass sometimes. She was  complicated, damaged, and difficult, but she was ultimately a sweet and loving member of our family.

I really miss her, and her terrible breath, and that wonderfully derpy look on her face that always said “IMADOG!”

IMADOG

Bye bye, piles. I love you.

A small request: if you choose to comment, please don’t post that Rainbow Bridge thing. I know you mean well, but it has always made me uncomfortable.

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474 thoughts on “I can barely define the shape of this moment in time”

  1. I am so sorry for your loss. You gave Riley a wonderful life, and she was lucky to have you for her family. Thank you for sharing pictures of her with us and letting us into your world. May your memories of Riley bring you comfort and ease your grief . Take care.

  2. I am so sorry for your family’s loss. I don’t think Riley could have asked for a better home than what she had with you. Thank you (and Anne) for letting so many of us have a glimpse into that happiness through your posts. And thank you for your heart for shelters and getting pets adopted.

  4. Our 4 legged family members are so important. It’s so hard to lose them but memories help. Sending virtual hugs to you, Anne and your boys.

  9. I’m so sorry about Riley, I loved her sweet face when you posted pictures. She always looked so happy and I know she will be forever missed by your family and all of us.

  13. I almost lost my dog last year and I know he has few more years to live so I definitely know how you can feel.
    Be well. There are no words to soothe the pain now but the good moments always remain.

  15. There’s a hospice by my house that Edie and I walk by when we go th toe dog park. One day there was a teenage kid sitting on a bench in the hospice garden, and as we got closer I saw this kid was weeping quietly. I walked in the opposite direction, but Edie reacted the same way as Riley did to you – she dropped her ball at the kids feet and started spinning until the kid threw it. I was embarassed to intrude on that kids moment but Edie knew better.

    Dogs are awesome. Riley was lucky to have you. xo

  16. Losing a pet is definitely like losing a family member. My Prince could always tell when I was sad, whether it was over a silly movie or real grief from something that had impacted my life. He would also lay his head in my lap until I felt better. He was silly and loved to jump in my husband’s chair the minute he came home to say “here I am” …. I know how it breaks your heart when they are gone. I still cry occasionally when I think of him. I know Riley will live in your hearts and you will always have your memories to hold on to. So sorry for your loss…

  17. I have admired your acting, from the early days to your appearances on the Big Bang Theory. And now, I admire you as a person.

  18. That was a beautiful and touching tribute to your adorable family member. My sincere condolences for your loss

  20. My heart is breaking for you and your family.

    Thank you for sharing her sweet, sweet smile with us.

  21. My deepesty sympathy. We lost our beloved Aruba last March. She was 15 1/2, and the sweetest dog ever. A hole unfillable. It sucks.

  26. I’m so sorry for the loss of Riley. And Ferris. I’m a puddle of mess right now. These awesome little guys come into our lives and leave them far too soon. I’m sure your Riley had an awesome IAMADOG life with you and your family.

  27. My heart goes out to you. It’s always hard losing a family member, even (especially) of the fur variety.

  29. Riley was as lucky to have all of you as you were to have her. My condolences to you.

  30. My dog, Lance, does the same thing when I’m sad. He’ll bring me his favourite toys and put them on my arm and just hold them there. I can never tell if he’s saying “Here! Have this thing that makes me happy!” or “Here play with me! You’ll feel better!” it happens far too often to just be a coincidence though.

    I’m sorry for your loss, losing one of the four legged family members is like the rug being pulled out from under you. It sounds like you did good by each other though.

  32. Oh my gosh. She was adorable! I’m used to seeing pictures of Seamus and Marlowe, I don’t think I’ve seen Riley before. She looks like the white version of my Desi. he passed away almost 7 years years ago, but he was my baby! He was a rescue from Bridgeport, CT who had been severely beaten and damaged and left under a porch, but he was the sweetest, most expressive dog I’ve ever known. When i was younger I called him Boo-Boo b/c he was a little doctor dog who would lick every one of my scratches, bumps, skinned knees…and tears. I miss him everyday and I wish I still had a picture of him to share with you, but so many moves and a tornado have scattered most of my photos into the wind (in some cases literally lol).

    My heart is with you and your whole family, it’s always hard to lose a furbaby. 🙁 hugs

  34. I have loved and connected more with your family due to Riley’s photos. Seeing her “IMADOG” photos always lifted my mood and put a whisper of a smile on my face. I will miss her although not the way that you and yours will. She was one happy dog and I think she knew to spread her happiness.

  35. Wil, I am very sorry for your loss. I will miss seeing pictures of sweet Riley. She reminded me very much of a dog that lived next door to me growing up. Cindy was a mostly white dog who was old and deaf and often cranky but was a sweetheart nonetheless. Hugs to you and the rest of the Wheaton clan at this difficult time.

  36. People without pets don’t realize how much our pets mean to us. My thoughts are with the whole Wheaton family! Take care all of you!

  37. Mr, Wheaton, I know exactly how you feel. The first pet I ever had (although it was actually my sister’s) was a wonderful orange tabby by the moniker Trouble. (Mom named the cat, because he was always under-foot when he was a kitten.) Sis got him when she was 7, and he was the runt of the litter. He lived to be 17 years old, and I can still remember the day the family had to take him to be put down, as he could barely eat, move, or even see. His body was failing, and we understood that the most humane thing was to put him to sleep. This self-same cat was one who would ONLY let mom come get me from my crib (sis and I are separated by over a decade), because he’d sleep under my crib, and if anyone other than mom tried to enter my room, there were two glowing eyes under the crib, and a low growl (or at least that’s what dad tells me.) As we were at the vet’s, putting Trouble to sleep, I can still remember the look in his eyes, to this day. He understood what we were doing, and was at peace with it. (Still hurts today, to think back on it.) Please give my condolences to Ryan and Nolan, and anyone else in the household who needs it. You all saved Riley, and in return, she saved you all.

  39. I’m so sorry for your loss. What a sweetie she was. And she was so lucky to have such loving people and doggy friends. You done good, Wil & family. She had a good life.

  41. I’m glad you gave such a sweet dog a loving home for as long as you could. My deepest sympathies for your loss.

  42. Oh wil I am so sorry for your family. I’ve been reading about Riley for years and I deeply feel your loss. I’m so glad you gave her a happy home

  43. I am so sorry for you loss. Rescue dogs are always special and often come with the kinds of baggage that we, ourselves acquire over a lifetime. I hope that those of us who take them on will be forgiven our future quirks and ticks. As someone who is sitting at the bedside of her 18 year old daughter who is dying of cancer, I know that I will need that understanding.

  44. Dear Wil and family: My deepest, sincerest condolences on the loss of your neurotic and wonderful IMADOG Riley.

    PS I don’t much like the Rainbow Bridge thing, either.

  45. I am so sorry for your loss. Reading your words brought back the pain of losing my dog Chief. He was 16 and had been with me since he was a puppy. I had the same reaction. Something as simple as seeing a toy sent this overwhelming wave of sadness and grief through me that I thought I would never recover from. I know you will probably have that moment again over Riley and I wish there was a way for her to physically be there for you, but just picture her IMADOG face and know she’s playing with that slobbery ball and rope again.

  46. We just lost our Chloe about a month ago, it is so hard. They are so special and such important parts of our lives. I’m sorry for your loss. Internet hugs

  47. Wait, Riley was WHAT?! Locked in a closet in a soon-to-be-demo’d place? … … … I don’t know what is worse, you losing everyone’s favorite IMADOG or people that actually -do- that to their pets…

  49. I’m sorry for your loss, Wil. I hope good memories of ridiculous and fun times with her help you and your family through this time.

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