This is an opinion column

It was the eyes that did it. The skinny mixed-breed dog stared out from her cage at the animal shelter, hoping to go home with somebody, or at least that’s what animal foster mother Carol Ann Reagh thought.

Reagh describes the dog she fostered until a forever family was found as just “skin and bones.” Reagh knew that if she didn’t get her out she’d get looked over and people would pass her by in favor of a cute puppy or an animal with some meat on the bones.

She didn’t want Ruby—which is what she and her husband named her—to slip through. They wanted to give her a second chance.

And so they did. Those sweet eyes turned out to be a window to the heart and soul of Ruby,who was gentle and loving from the start. She’d been in a bad situation. Reagh, who fostered through Huntsville Animal Services and A New Lash on Life, aimed to change that, which is what happened.

Even after Ruby was plumped up and healthy-looking, she was still wary of strangers who approached her, which meant she’d been treated harshly before she was rescued by the Reaghs. Soon she learned to accept pats and hugs. It took time, but Ruby, the once skinny foster dog, found her real home with a family called Foster. Full disclosure: Ruby was adopted by my daughter and her family—the Fosters.

She lived with the Fosters for 15 years, playing with a pre-school boy, Harry, and a grade-school girl, Margaret. She joined the family just when they added a pug to the mix, so she and the small dog became pals. Ruby grew old, and pug Eloise remained her feisty sidekick, sleeping on the couch with her and sharing toys.

In her elder years, Ruby grew stiff with arthritis the way most of us do. She limped along from couch to rug to yard, always with a slow determination to keep on going. Her tail wagged lower and lower, like a flag at half mast. She seemed to sleep more and more, but rallied when she went on a boat ride with the family, her ears flying back in the wind and her nose pressed forward, sniffing out new scents on Guntersville Lake.

Ruby died last week with little suffering, as far as we know, and with the quiet and gentle manner she’d always displayed. She just lay down in her yard and couldn’t get up again, in spite of medicines from the vet and the loving attention of her family. Eloise stayed by her side for awhile. Then it was over.

If Ruby could speak our language, I’d like to think she’d say, “Thanks for the food and fresh water and affection, but really, I’m ready to go.”

She’ll live on in photos and memories and stories. Her ashes will be scattered in the yard and at the lake. Ruby will still be around. It’s never really over.

Contact Beth Thames at [email protected]