Stanley

When Stanley was 14, he was found abandoned on a quiet country road. He was held at animal control’s kennels, but nobody came to claim him. The policy for unclaimed dogs like Stanley was euthanasia, but his rescuer refused. Instead of following town council’s rules, this hero and a team of volunteers worked behind the scenes to protect Stanley and find him a home. Three months after his rescue, they reached out to me and in August 2024 I brought Stanley home to Ben’s Place.

Stanley was a calm, quiet, gentle dog. He always stayed on the periphery of the pack, just watching. He loved his food, his treats, his soft bed. More than anything though, Stanley loved affection. When you petted him he’d lean into you, close his eyes, sigh, take big slow breaths. It was like he’d waited all his life for love and his body was saying “Ahhhhh, at last. . .”

Stanley was intensely loving. He had a depth, a soulfulness to him that made him so very special. To be present with him, to look into his soft brown eyes, was to feel a connection to an old, old soul, one that was profound and powerful and so deeply, deeply loving.

Of course, he had his moments. He adored his snacks and had no regard for your fingers when lunging for a treat. He had only a vague sense of the word “housebroken”, and his accidents were, in a word, impressive. Walking up the stairs would often cause his bowels to loosen, and many were the morning the pack and I had to tiptoe carefully around the land mines he left behind as he came to bed the night before. When I’d mow the lawn he’d follow me, often lying down right in the middle of the next row I was trying to cut. By the end of the job there’d be just as many rows cut with big wide swaths around Stanley as there were straight ones.

Stanley had skin cancer, and by the end, he had dozens of tumors on his body, some even in his mouth. His legs weakened to the point that by the end of the day he couldn’t stand up, so I had to carry him around. More and more he just seemed tired, so very tired.

The vet came out to the house on his last day. Stanley lay with his head in my lap, looking out over his yard, feeling my love as he took his last breath. It was peaceful. Gentle and loving, like he was.

I want to express my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude to Gary, Amy and all the others who saved Stanley’s life and brought him to me. You all are heroes.

Stanley was a gift to this world - a gift to me - and his loss is profound. As he was loved, so very, very loved, so too will he be missed.