Crossing the Rainbow Bridge

It was love at first sight…

Helen and I had not had a dog in our home for nearly twelve years. When we moved from our previous home into a small neighborhood, we lost the land where our dogs could roam at will. We were still employed and couldn’t even think about leaving our formerly free pets in a garage or crate during the day.  Fortunately, we found a good home for Chuck and Max (below) on a farm south of Knoxville. Our cat, Wilbur, moved with us, but he was a confirmed housecat. We decided to remain dog-less.

As the years passed slowly, I began to think often about getting another dog as a companion. We were into RVing now, so a dog could complicate things, but I couldn’t shake the thoughts. What breed would work for us? Did I want a puppy? Big and boisterous, or small and cuddly? Long hair or short?

Finally, I decided to look for a male English Bulldog. I soon learned that English Bulldogs are very expensive from a reputable breeder, with costs running up to $5,000 or more. Therefore, a puppy was out of the question, but I was in no hurry. A rescue would be best for me. Also, I was going to be very picky about his looks. He had to have a perfectly wrinkled face with no pronounced underbite and a short, squashed nose. I even had a name picked for my future friend…Mortimer. The search for the perfect Bulldog took several years.

I kept looking online and in the newspapers. About five and a half years ago, I was browsing pet listings on Craigslist when I saw a picture that stopped me cold. A family in Easley, SC, posted a picture of a one-year-old Chocolate and White English Bulldog available for adoption. There was a rehoming fee, but it was in the hundreds, not the thousands. I responded to the ad and asked the current owner to contact me. Several days passed before I received an email from Kristen saying the dog was still available. I called for additional information. At the end of our conversation, I told Kristen that I would let her know something within the week. The hard part was yet to come…I had to get Helen to buy in.

I walked into the room where she was busily working on things and announced excitedly, “I found Mortimer!”

“What are you talking about?” came the reply.

“I found Mortimer; come see the picture.”

After staring at the picture of this lovable hunk of a dog, Helen walked out of the room muttering, “I don’t think so, at least not now.” I explained that I hadn’t made any plans, but that I would let Kristen know within a few days, though he might be gone soon.

About ten minutes later, she walked into my Man Cave and said: “Just go get him, and Happy Birthday.” I called Kristen and left the next morning for Easley, SC, near Greenville, SC, three hours away.

Kristen met me at a Tractor Supply near her home. As soon as she pulled up and opened her car door, a chunky and very huggable Bulldog with a perfect Bulldog face walked eagerly in my direction. It was meant to be, and I teared up at the sight of him. Kristen said his name was Brutus, but I kept my naming plans to myself. We bought some food in Tractor Supply, then headed back to Knoxville. The newly named Mortimer slept soundly in the back seat of my truck.

Helen greeted our new roommate and reminded me that Mortimer was MY dog. I would be in charge of walking him, feeding him, and other assorted pet-ownership responsibilities. Nevertheless, I could tell she was smitten. It soon became obvious that those two bonded well.

Mortimer adjusted quickly and soon joined us on our RV travels. He was perfectly suited to RV life, sleeping in the truck and taking command of the couch in our fifth-wheel camper. He made five trips across the country and to Florida, plus several short trips closer to home. I loved the way people reacted to our little love sponge in campgrounds. Mortimer loved people and was always eager for a love pat. On the beach, he was a “chick magnet.”

During our trip home from California in June of this year, we noticed an ugly sore on his shoulder. I called our veterinarian, who prescribed some medicine. Despite our vet’s best efforts, the condition persisted and spread. In late August, my vet referred me to an animal dermatologist. We sent skin samples to a pathologist for study. The results were devastating—Cutaneous lymphoma, a disease so rare that there is almost no opportunity to research it or find a cure. The disease is usually fatal within six months. Mortimer made it through five, and was barely five years old. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge yesterday (10/12/2026).  A piece of me crossed over with him.

It will take many months for me to get used to life without Mortimer around. He was always under our feet, looking for a hug, a love pat, one of his toys, or his next meal. Saying I miss him misses the mark completely.

Damn, he was a beautiful, lovable friend.