Friday, May 22, 2015

Goodbye to a small, blithe spirit.

She was the runt of the litter, a bit crazy, hated other dogs, even nipped a neighbour once (just a 'heeler' nip though, on the ankle), never caught or fetched a ball or stick (she'd watch you throw it and then just look at you as if to say "What?"), and was the world's worst guard dog.  Though she'd quite happily bark at nothing for hours.  She would sleep on the inside couch even when she KNEW she wasn't allowed to, and she would take up most of the outside one too, when you were trying to sit on it.  She ate cat poo, kangaroo poo, rabbit poo, who knows, possibly even fox poo.  But she'd carefully extricate lettuce, potato, and tomato from anything you fed her.  She left white fur on EVERYTHING, all year round.

But she was ours.  And now she's gone.  She loved belly rubs and sitting on your feet, walking up to the school bus in the mornings, chasing magpies, and licking you whenever your guard was down. And now there's a big (rather torn and dog-chewed) space on the outside couch that will never be filled again.  Maybe it was a snake bite, maybe something she ate.  We don't know.  We found her when we got home from picking up littlest munchkin from her school camping trip (what a horrible thing to come home to, my poor little munchkin).

Goodbye my mad little Flynn.  I hope you're chasing magpies somewhere in dog heaven.



Mo Crow said...

Fly Free Flynn

JGG said...

I have a few friends in dog heaven too - I know they're having a grand time!

sarah said...

Oh, I am so sorry for your loss. Run, Flynn, free in the beautiful meadows.

Ms. said...

Sudden and without a hint leading in. That's hard, and so sorry the homecoming was shocking. Poor kid. But really, this is one of the BEST tributes ever, ranks among my five favorites. Here's my top favorite:

A Dog Has Died
By Pablo Neruda

Translated By Alfred Yankauer
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.

So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it.

Julia Elfvenmyr said...

It´s the saddest thing when a pet dies. Especially one who has made quite a mess in your life for a long while.

sally said...

She's the cutest thing ever! And by your description she reminds me of our own little troublemaker.

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