In Memoriam
Trouble, the best of good boys.
On Thursday 12th October, I had to bid farewell to a very good boy. Trouble - ironically named - was anything but. He found love in his twilight year with the most wonderful couple who did nothing but shower him with the attention and care that had been absent for so long before they came into his world.
You shall be missed, beautiful boy, but thank you for letting me get to know the very best that was you.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Destination Unknown
The Universe is incredibly unsubtle. Most of the time though, we choose to ignore the signals screaming at dog whistle decibels in giant neon letters in our face.
When you are raised on a farm surrounded by animals and the wild (glorious); When you develop a passion for horses that you will never be able to fulfil (but then you do); When you turn away from the obvious trajectory your life is taking in favour of fulfilling other people’s needs (mistake); and when you inevitably end up veering back onto your original path, the cosmos laughing up its metaphorical sleeve at your in vain attempt to dodge your destination…
That’s when it becomes crushingly clear, you are exactly where you are meant to be.
The Power of the Dog
The way they look at you, like you are the centre of their world; the loyalty they inspire without question; the occasional rebellious moment when they can’t resist stealing a treat or submitting to their instincts and chasing a squirrel or bird, regardless of the futility of the chase and you calling their name; the feel of their coat between your fingers after a long day as they rest their heads on your lap to soothe and calm your frayed nerves.
All these things and so much more. They are special. They are pure. They reflect the very best parts of us.
“Dogs don’t know what they look like. Dogs don’t even know what size they are. No doubt it’s our fault, for breeding them into such weird shapes and sizes. My brother’s dachshund, standing tall at eight inches, would attack a Great Dane in the full conviction that she could tear it apart. When a little dog is assaulting its ankles the big dog often stands there looking confused — “Should I eat it? Will it eat me? I am bigger than it, aren’t I?” But then the Great Dane will come and try to sit in your lap and mash you flat, under the impression that it is a Peke-a-poo.” - Ursula K. LeGuin, 1929.