You never want to think about the day you have to say "forever" goodbye to the dog that has been a part of your life for over a decade. As Roma aged, I sort of just avoided thinking about this topic, like a construction barricade that says "Wrong Way". But sadly the day came. On Saturday Roma passed away. It is an event that has rocked my world, dredging up so many raw emotions and feelings.
Ross and I got Roma while we were dating, almost 12 years ago. Ross wanted a big dog (specifically a Doberman) and I wanted a smaller dog. Somehow we landed on a Weimeraner as a "compromise" and so our adventure began. We picked Roma up in East Houston, from a litter of 11 pups; only 2 were left. Both were "blue" females and we picked the less energetic one. (funny right??) Roma taught us about shared responsibility and the importance of communication even before we were married. When we'd have arguments we'd each talk to Roma while the other person could hear to de-escalate the discussion. I mean most dogs don't have marriage counselor on their resume, right?
Puppy Roma had a fear of vacuums and felt the need to attack it, a habit that carried on her whole life. We quickly learned that she had an obsession with popcorn, with apples and peanut butter close behind. Puppy Roma absolutely destroyed our backyard when we lived in Katy, TX. She ate through about 6 grill covers, dug under the fence, ate the fence, and regularly escaped to go hang out with Maple and Haribo down the street. We'd come home and Roma would just be laying out in the back sunbathing or upside down sleeping, one of her signature positions. We took regular trips to the dog park on weekends and Ross taught Roma better swimming form at the lake house (no more slapping the water!). Roma would try to entice everyone into her favorite pastime of fetch by dropping toys in their lap. Despite her endless energy, Roma knew how to "Huebel nap", snoring and all. Roma thought she was a person and we indulged her :)
When Roma was ~ 3 years old we moved to Alaska. Snow, mountains, and darkness what? Roma was in shock at first. I still remember having to clear away some snow to reveal the grass so she knew where to go potty. Roma fell in love with Alaska, especially the hiking and the dog parks and we met some of our best Alaska friends this way. I'll never forget Ross trying to teach Roma how to skijore (basically run in front of skate skis); he wouldn't get a workout because Roma would pull him around so hard! Roma had such a zest for life, everything was at full speed. However, Alaska winters were rough on her. Roma had several toe injuries and ultimately lost a toe, a tooth, and had to get 2 metal plates/18 screws in her back legs.
Roma was such a great family dog, welcoming two babies, whom stole much of the focus away from her. I definitely harbor some puppy mom guilt for not giving Roma Loma more attention in recent years, but I have to believe that Roma knew she was fiercely loved.
I miss being greeted at the door when I come home. I miss seeing a grey one curled up on the couch. I miss hearing 40 multi-directional twirls on the dog bed to find the perfect spot. I miss nudging Ross to stop snoring and then realizing it is puppy girl. I miss watching the girls integrate Roma into all of their make-believe playtime (big bad wolf?, bad step mom?, witch?). I miss my running partner, always pushing me to go farther and faster. I miss the grey snoot waiting at the back door to come back in. I miss my compadre, Miss Roma.
Roma Huebel August 25, 2007 - May 18, 2019
