Oliver was my family’s adored and cherished Miniature Schnauzer. We have had him since he was a puppy. Whenever my kids would ask me which of them is my favorite child, I would smile and point at Oliver and he would promptly come to me and give me a high five. Oliver had this way of gently letting you know he was there and wanted your attention. Sometimes it was just a very subtle “Woof”. Other times it would be a nudge with his nose, or a tap with his paw, or he would just drop the toy he wanted filled with a treat into my lap or on my foot. When he wanted to go out to the backyard, he would use his paw to tap the door and bark. When we would play catch, he would actually catch using his front two paws and not his mouth like all of my past dogs. Oliver was definitely very special and so that is why it feels so devastating to lose him to heart failure, when he was a family member so filled with heart, spunk, intelligence, personality and character that it’s hard to think of him as just another dog. On November 1, 2025 I was woken up by my wife Paula screaming my name out in a panic. Oliver had collapsed and was having difficulty breathing. I sprung into action checking to make sure he was not choking and picked him up and rushed him over to the emergency hospital LIVS, near our home. They confirmed it was heart failure, administered more medication to reduce the fluid building in his lungs and placed him into an Oxygen chamber because his levels were in the 80s when they should have been in the high 90s. Initially Oliver was responding well, but then he took a turn for the worse. A pulmonary embolism emerged and the veterinarian told us he would suffer terribly from it and suggested euthanasia. My wife Paula is a physician who no doubt functioned in a manner where her world revolved around Oliver. This was evident when I would visit her office and see photos of Oliver everywhere, but one of me tucked away in hiding; so when she was the first of us to say it’s time, I knew not to argue even though every part of me wanted to try every possible miracle to save our little bundle of joy for just some more time with him. Upon realizing this was not possible, I agreed with Paula’s decision and suggested that Oliver be given a piece of Chocolate before he said goodbye to us and took his final journey across the Rainbow Bridge. We all agreed, and gave him the chocolate as we held him close and the veterinarian administered the two injections to facilitate Oliver’s journey on Oliver’s Road across the Rainbow Bridge. While struggling with this grief and the tears and feelings of emptiness and loss, I turned to writing lyrics and using AI to produce the music to express my feelings. The end result of that process is my newest song, “Oliver’s Road”.

Posted by Russell Nomer on November 8, 2025

My kids used to ask who my favorite child was. I’d smile and point to Oliver, our Miniature Schnauzer, and he’d promptly come over for a high five. He was so full of heart, which makes losing him to heart failure just days ago feel so devastating. He wasn’t just a dog; he was family. When we had to make the impossible choice to let him go, we said our final goodbye with a piece of chocolate for his journey across the Rainbow Bridge. To process this loss, I wrote “Oliver’s Road.” This song is my tribute to him. To listen, please search “Oliver’s Road” by Russell Nomer on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, or wherever you stream music. #MiniatureSchnauzer #PetLoss #RainbowBridge #Grief #DogLove #Tribute #NewMusic #RussellNomer #Spotify #AppleMusic #AmazonMusic

Posted by Russell Nomer on November 8, 2025