He’s laid to rest between two chestnut trees, at the head of a natural allée. He lies facing his home and the fields we used to explore.
My dad gave him the affectionate nickname “Puppy”.
I found him listed in a stereotypical “free to a good home” classified ad. When I called, his then owner explained that Puppy had been abandoned and bounced back and forth between homes before being rescued. Now, his owner was moving and could only take two of his three dogs with him. Puppy was the unwanted one.
When I met Puppy, he stretched out at my feet, wanting his back rubbed. I was immediately and hopelessly hooked!
Puppy did not like the car ride to my home. In fact, he hated car rides. Perhaps cars reminded him of his early years of being abandoned.
I would soon discover that he was terrified of thunder storms. As well as high winds and unexpected noises. But he loved snow. He made friends with cats and other dogs. He seemed to have compassion for his fellow animals.
He liked attention. He was also content to simply lie where he could watch his people.
Puppy’s quiet nature was a perfect fit in my house, where I was caregiver to both of my parents. They had balance and walking issues which would not have been compatible with a boisterous dog.
They enjoyed Puppy’s companionship. Mom was known to accidentally-on-purpose drop a bite of food from her place at the table. Seemed she did that only when he was near by. Dad would call “Come here, Puppy”. Puppy would walk to dad’s chair and stand while dad patted his head. Then he would relax and sink to the floor. “Argh… I can’t reach you now!” dad would grumble. We’d all chuckle. And Puppy would just lie there. Relaxed. Contented. Trusting.
Helping to span the gap between generations.
In the years following my parent’s deaths, he continued to be a loyal companion.
Recently, on a beautiful spring evening, he completed his journey.
I miss him.
God made the wild animals
according to their kinds,
the livestock
according to their kinds,
and all the creatures that move along the ground
according to their kinds.
And God saw that it was good.
(emphasis added)
RIP (Puppy). He was a good dog, very fond memories of him bounding towards me and getting all excited when I would come over to say hello. Mark I am so sorry for your loss.
Thank you Bonnie
Thanks Mark for making me tear up. I just have some dust or something in my eye… seriously.
That was a touching tribute to a beloved pet and family member. I am a fellow dog lover who has buried more than a few friends. It never gets easier.
You know Kirk, as I was writing this post, it occurred to me that I was writing the very kind of article that I hate to read! Cause when I read or hear about someone losing their pet, it tugs at my heart … a lot!
I know you’ve been there. 🙂
Going to miss seeing “Puppy” when we visit. 🙁 Thanks for sharing the sweet memories with us.
And I appreciated your families support through this. (Including the ‘dog therapy’ given by a couple dogs I know!)
This makes me sad. It wouldn’t seem right to sit on your porch and see no dog to the left beside his house! I’m sure you do miss him. Jennifer would be sad to hear the news, Lilian maybe not so much 🙂
Yes, you are right! Lillian was NOT enthralled with him was she? (Although if I’m remembering correctly, she did get braver as the months went by.) 🙂