Boomer was never the most obedient dog. He wasn't the most affectionate, either - he valued his alone time as much as anyone. It wasn't attention that Boomer demanded - it was cold, quiet room and a pile of dirty laundry to lay on.
He was never all that interested in fetching tennis balls or chasing squirrels, but he'd do his best make the mailman at the end of the driveway feel less than welcome. I wouldn't call him lazy... but Boomer certainly did his best to optimize.
When he was feeling especially mischevious, he'd sneak paper towels out of the trash or empty grocery bags from the foyer and shred them to bits behind a chair in the family room. Christmas was always the highlight of his year.
Boomer could recognize the rustle of a packet of Pop-tarts opening up from a mile away, and smell an open can of tunafish from two floors up. He wasn't a beggar, never in-your-face, but he knew how to stand in your peripheral vision until you noticed him and forked over something yummy.
I think Boomer was at his happiest when sitting, calm and content, on the front lawn on cool fall afternoons, vigilantly surveying his domain and waiting for Dad's car to come around the corner and into the driveway.
Boomer was my oldest best friend. He passed away on Monday night while doing what he does best: sleeping.
Well miss you, Boomer!