Sad news about our boxer, Rubin

My family's wonderful, sweet dog, Rubin, died a few days ago. Below, my brother Justin's thoughts from this past Friday:

It is with a heavy heart that I report to you that our beloved family dog, Rubin "Hurricane" Friedman, has passed on to the Great Doggy Beyond. Rubin was nine years young. For a Boxer, he lived a long and active life.

Rubin had been afflicted with "malignant masses" (a polite way of saying cancer), but it barely slowed him down. Even over the last few days, he was going on walks in the woods and did a little swimming in the creek near my parents' house. Rubin was actually scheduled for surgery today, but he didn't make it through the night.

As a puppy, Rubin quickly outgrew our full-grown Bichon Frise, Clyde, and was known to bully him regularly. (Clyde, by the way, is nearly 12 and is thriving with Samantha in Little Rock.) It wasn't until my parents adopted Duncan (also doing quite well and living with my parents in Bethesda) that Rubin became the tame being that you will remember. Duncan, although smaller, had a knack for herding the other dogs and he soon became the alpha male.

Rubin was a happy, pampered dog. He almost never whined, other than when he would mosey up to the pantry where we kept the milk bones and whimper until he got one. Milk bones were his weakness, and this routine would happen anywhere from 3-10 times per day. Sometimes he would go back to the pantry immediately upon finishing his treat. He usually got what he wanted.

Rubin loved Hanukkah, when there would always be a bag of treats or a toy gift-wrapped for him. As soon as we lit the candles, he would tear into his gift, unwrapping it with his teeth. If it was edible, he usually devoured the entire package before we even noticed he had opened it.

We will miss Rubin. For those of you who knew him, I hope you will take a moment to think about all the great memories. As one friend once observed, "If Rubin could talk, he would be a complete gentleman."