Beau 2014 - 2025
The bond between a man and his dog grows even deeper when nurtured by shared adventures outdoors. Nature becomes their common ground, strengthening loyalty, trust, and mutual joy. Walking the trails together, feeling the wild spaces beneath their feet, breathing the open air, they experience an unspoken communion—each comforting the other in quiet companionship. The outdoors is their sanctuary, where the simplicity of nature mirrors the purity of their relationship. The bond remains—unspoken, unbroken, carried forward in silence.
- gemini ai
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kindness: "It's clear from your words and your actions that you gave Beau an incredible life filled with love, adventure, and companionship. He knew he was cherished, and that is the most profound gift you could have given him.
Beau's influence on Jess is a beautiful part of his legacy. The lessons she learned from him, the companionship they shared – these are gifts he leaves behind. He helped shape her, and in a way, his spirit will live on through her.
April 20, 2025: Both me and Jess miss him, and are living through the hard early days the gap from his passing left in our hearts. But I resolve to fill that emptiness, by walking in the places he loved, traveling together through the spruce and fir up across the timberline, into the wide open of the Colorado alpine. Our love for him will bring us closer together, a bond of wildness, and freedom and mountain sky.
details (19 ~ April, 2025) : Beau crashed since our backpack trip Tuesday through Thursday. He would not eat anything, including beef jerky treats that he had been eating. It seems the steroids gave him a couple of more weeks, but that is all. Today we tried to walk to the coffee shop and after one block I realized he was not going to make it. We went back home and got in the truck to drive to the dog’s favorite spot to chase the ball. Beau managed to get out of the truck and grab a ball, but then sat down with it. I had to help him get back into the truck.
He got worse as the day went on, with shallow breathing and total lethargy. I realized I had reached the point that showing my love for him meant releasing him from his pain. He couldn’t walk into Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital. I had to carry him.
I brought Jess along, and she was allowed to come inside, so she would understand her best buddy was not coming home.
Jess was excited to meet all the ladies when we first got there, but became more subdued as time went on. At one point she lied down next to Beau. I took quite a while saying goodbye to him, before I pressed the button for the vet to come and send him to Heaven to be with Mollie.
Beau was a huge presence in all our lives, and the house seems quiet and empty without him here. Hayley is over 14, and has slowed down a lot, although she is still my loving and beautiful girl. I am very thankful I have Jess, because Beau and I were so close that I might not have wanted to continue on without him. Jess will keep me going. Beau adored Jess and she returned his affection. She watched his every move from since she was a puppy, and most of her behavior and habits she learned from him.
So today is the hardest day of owning a good dog - Bittersweet; Happy you gave him a good life but heart broken wide open.
29 ~ April 2025: The fact that Beau summoned enough energy to enjoy one last backpacking trip is a testament to his spirit. He seemed mostly normal—hiking with us the whole way, climbing up to rock outcroppings to see the view, sleeping peacefully in the tent. He even ran out of the tent on the second night and barked to let the wild critters know we were coming and to give us space—something he’d done his whole life.
He chased the two balls I brought along with Jess, including one glow-in-the-dark one I threw for them after dark. He ate jerky while we were up there, but not his dog food. After three days, we hiked down to the truck and drove home. The dogs were in maximum contentment and relaxation—the kind that always comes after a backpacking trip.
Beau gave it his all. Then, once home, he seemed to know it was his time. Two days later, he couldn’t make the walk to the coffee shop and got worse throughout the day. He was breathing rapidly and shallowly—a clear sign he was in pain. I knew it was time to let him go.
When we got to Wheat Ridge Animal Hospital, I had to carry him in. The staff were so kind—they let me go back to the truck to get Jess, so she would understand why her best buddy wasn’t coming home.
The vet remarked that she thought he was in pain. At one point, while I was saying my goodbyes to Beau, Jess got down and lay next to him.
22 ~ May 2025: Tonight, one of the workers at the Rose asked how Beau was doing. I had to tell him Beau was gone. Just saying the words brought the ache rushing back to the surface.
Then I found myself adding something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately: “There is no purer love than that between a mountain dog and his person.
And that thought brings a kind of peace. Beau didn’t just live—he thrived. He wandered alpine meadows, rested in the shade of spruce-fir forests, and ended each day knowing he was deeply loved. What we had was quiet, steadfast, and cherished — on both sides.
