for Franklin
my buddy 'til the end
Trained to give hugs, a happy crier, and always in need of a shoe to hold, Franklin had the biggest heart and the gentlest soul. Our almost 10 years with him wasn’t long enough, but it was full of good times and lots of love.
By the time Winston arrived, we already knew we would be getting a second dog and that he would be named Franklin - after all, the dynamic diplomatic duo of Churchill and FDR had to live on. I still remember the day Franklin came home. It was a Friday, Franklin Friday, and he bounded into the house a bundle of excitement. We knew immediately we had another great companion. Though Winston took some time to warm up to sharing the spotlight, he quickly realized too that he had a brother for life. While Winston was a tried and true Momma’s boy, Franklin, a classic second child, had a little more room in his heart for the rest of us.
Franklin didn’t even need any formal training under Winston’s exceptional leadership. His only puppy challenge was crying so much when we left the house. We would come back from a quick errand run to find Franklin beside himself crying. We tried thunder jackets and all sorts of toys to placate him - it was only when he was allowed to be outside the kennel with Winston that he truly settled. And a shoe he would carry in his mouth, never to chew or bite, would calm him down too. His favorite shoes these last few months were my bad bunny slippers, which I took to mean that I was secretly his favorite. He always left a trail of shoes and frequently switched out, leading to me asking him many a time, “Where did you drop my shoe Franklin?”, followed by a scavenger hunt around the house. (As my mom will tell you, I am also partially at fault for my bad habit of leaving my shoes around.) He also was known to put his leash in his mouth at times. Especially after the vet, he would walk himself out, much to the delight of all the vet workers.
I always felt like Franklin and I had a special bond. This was solidified when we went through a bit of a scary experience. One summer, I was back home walking the boys and jamming out to something with my headphones on. I didn’t realize until it was too late that we had walked down a street where some dogs were unleashed in an open yard. They came running after us, barking, and began attacking us. Franklin immediately began to bark back, a rarity. Franklin defended Winston and I until the owner finally came back out and called her dogs back. I ran home and checked out Franklin, who seemed more worried in seeing if I was ok. He was his usual demeanor and didn’t appear to have any injuries.
It was only later that day, when Franklin didn’t even get up to greet my mom when she came home, that I knew something was up. Sure enough, there was a small bite mark on his hind leg that I had missed earlier and combined with Franklin’s lack of complaining, hadn’t realized. A couple staples, some days in the cone later, and he was all good. This experience showed me just how good of a boy Franklin was - to the point of not even telling us when he was hurt.
He was the star of the vet and walks; pretty much anywhere we went, he had fans who wanted to pet him. He leaned into his fame, making celebrity appearances at school with my mom. The most iconic of these was when he launched his acting career as Max, alongside my mom as the grinch.
His famous trick was his ability to give hugs. Like most Goldens, he loved jumping on people when they entered to show how excited he was to see them. To redirect all this lovely energy so that he wouldn’t jump on people without their consent, I trained him to give hugs. When I would say, “Give me a hug Franklin”, he would jump up and gently rest his arms around my waist. Sometimes we could even dance with him while he did this.
While he didn’t bark as much as Winston, he had his own ways of getting attention. The Franklin Nudge was his classic move - he would put his snout under your hand to remind you that it should be petting him. He didn't care if you were eating, typing, or even petting Winston. He would nudge himself in there. Chin rubs were his favorite. He also loved squeezing himself into tight places, perhaps a carry over of the thunder jacket and wanting to feel like he was being hugged. The couch cushions were always slightly pushed away from the backing, and the culprit was Mr.Franklin himself who would wedge himself in the space he created. The spot was made even better if someone sat in front of him and he could curl around them, chin resting on their shoulder. You couldn’t keep Franklin from a cuddle.
My trip home in January was mainly motivated by him. When we found out he might have cancer back in December, I knew I had to try to get home and see him. I asked for my leave as soon as I could, booked my tickets, and hoped that he remained well enough for me to visit him in time. I, of course, was also excited to see my parents and my hometown again. When I arrived home, Franklin didn’t stop crying for almost 10 minutes. I knew he had so much to tell me - why had I been gone so long, how many good walks he had taken, and how his brother was no longer with him. I cherish the time I got to spend with him chilling on the couch, treating him to pup cups and all the peanut butter he wanted, and going for rides in the car. But I could tell he was still sad from losing Winston. Peeking through the blinds on the back door was a favorite spot to wait for mom sightings - Franklin would still maintain his watch even after my mom got home. We all knew he was waiting for a glimpse of his brother.
After my visit, he got the best check up in months from the vet - I credit my special bond and its healing. Unfortunately, I think Franklin was being Franklin and he was giving us all a happy last bit of time with him, despite the cancer silently growing inside. For the months of February and March, he went on so many walks, even had a small puppy companion for a week, and gifted all of us his happy presence.
Just like Winston, Franklin waited for my parents to come home before he had to leave us peacefully. He gave us time to say goodbye and I’ll always be grateful to him for that. Saying goodbye to him through video call was so hard, but his perk up at hearing my voice let me know that he did hear me say how much I loved him one last time. Franklin’s eyes were always so full of love and attention. He could sense when you needed him and he would even come upstairs to find me when I didn’t feel well or when I was sad. He cried every time we came home after an extended time away. He was happy simply wherever we were; most of all, when we were all together again. I’ll never forget just how much Franklin loved and how he was a model to us humans on how to move through the world gently.
I know Franklin’s slice of heaven will be in between the couch cushions and I’ll find him by following the shoes. I miss you already buddy. You were the goodest boy ever. Go say hi to Winston for us and save a hug for me - your buddy forever.
