Cats and dogs--they find those holes in our hearts and fill those holes with roots that grow deeper and stronger as the years roll by. No matter how well anticipated their demise might be, the actual loss is devastating beyond reason. Some ancient Roman once offered that it's a good thing dogs do not live as long as men, since the pain felt by the dog's death is so acute after just a few year that it would be unbearable and drive men to suicide if a dog lived for 30 years.
While there are no words that can sooth the pain, I hope you both know that you have a bunch of us who mourn with you.
So sorry for your loss, Roy. It is indeed true and one of the mysteries of life that the death of the pain-in-the-ass pets will hit you as hard or harder than the death of the “good” boys.
I started to write about similar personal experiences with pets and ended half way through with tears starting to well. Suffice to say, commiserations for your loss.
Lost 2 14-year old rescue brothers within a month of each other a year ago, one of whom you see to the left. I can truly sympathize and commiserate. Wishing you and your wife solace.
We lost both of our rescue border collies in the last year, about 6 months apart. The old man had been abused as a puppy mill dog and took a year before he would even come near me, which was hard as we got him right after our first dog died. But as he got older—we think he must have been about 15 when he died—he got more affectionate. Still aloof and as stubborn as the day is long, but would come up and demand to be petted, and would take up his spot as sentinel at the ingress/egress to whatever room we were in.
Our other dog had been a stray and was outwardly affectionate but truly seemed to make no connection to people, either out of perpetual wariness or possibly a doggie personality disorder. Yet she was the best dog she could be, and it sucked just as painfully to say goodbye to her when her time came.
Much sympathy, Roy, to you and your wife. Good dog, Sweetie.
The picture threw me a bit. Knock off a few years, add a few pounds and that's our Hera. Same make, slightly different model. The wife says Hera is the name of a Greek goddess. I say, I could sure use a little Hera the dog right now, especially after reading today's post. My condolences.
Give your girl a proper period of mourning. But remember what they say about wanting friends in Washington.
This is a lovely piece. As a newly-initiated member of the Clan of Dog (after 60 years of being a cat guy), I am somewhat new to the intensity of the human/dog relationship, but I’m starting to get it. Please make this shareable, if possible.
That breaks my heart - in a good way, with that sweet pain of loss. Sweetie is like my partner's cat: pain in the ass to everyone, tolerates me, LOVES him.
Condolences, man. My wife rescues Rhodesian Ridgebacks (and others), so we've had a long parade of rescues and surrenders come and go. Actually, the best line I ever heard about dogs was in a commercial for, I think, Beneful: "They don't pretend to be something they're not." ("Unlike everybody else," I thought.) We recently adopted out two RR's, one of whom drove me crazy with his "separation anxiety," dumping the kitchen trash, stealing any food not nailed down if I left the vicinity for a minute, etc. "Are you going to miss them?" someone asked. I had to stop and admit the answer was, is, yes.
This is the shit, Roy. Jack Nicholson, singing "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," laugh-crying, "Over a dog!" Thank you so much for sharing this.
Reading this, and also the wonderful comments, leaves me thinking of the research that's been done in recent years about the evolution of dogs' abilities to read human emotions and reactions as they progressed through the millennia with us from our joint origins in Africa. Your description of Sweetie's repetoire of mockings and teasings and floutings - which was great, and funny, and so touching, Roy - seems to me the perfect demonstratioin of that long-nurtured understanding between the four-footed and the two-footed. And you did your part in it, too.
My pain-in-the-ass young puggle, also a rescue, is manipulating me at this moment. Your tribute makes me grateful to be bow to his naughty will. I know about that grief, too, and feel for you and Sweetie's mom. Thanks for writing this.
Roy, what would we do without you?
Absolute rule of nature: If they’re not vicious killers or serious attackers (of people), they’re by definition good dogs. And even then, maybe.
Sweetie was clearly Ms. High Maintenance (been there, done that, with a rescue with issues) but she was clearly a good dog.
I think the dogs who attack and kill probably have a good reason, too.
Usually bad owners.
Cats and dogs--they find those holes in our hearts and fill those holes with roots that grow deeper and stronger as the years roll by. No matter how well anticipated their demise might be, the actual loss is devastating beyond reason. Some ancient Roman once offered that it's a good thing dogs do not live as long as men, since the pain felt by the dog's death is so acute after just a few year that it would be unbearable and drive men to suicide if a dog lived for 30 years.
While there are no words that can sooth the pain, I hope you both know that you have a bunch of us who mourn with you.
So sorry for your loss, Roy. It is indeed true and one of the mysteries of life that the death of the pain-in-the-ass pets will hit you as hard or harder than the death of the “good” boys.
I started to write about similar personal experiences with pets and ended half way through with tears starting to well. Suffice to say, commiserations for your loss.
Pets are family.
Lost 2 14-year old rescue brothers within a month of each other a year ago, one of whom you see to the left. I can truly sympathize and commiserate. Wishing you and your wife solace.
We lost both of our rescue border collies in the last year, about 6 months apart. The old man had been abused as a puppy mill dog and took a year before he would even come near me, which was hard as we got him right after our first dog died. But as he got older—we think he must have been about 15 when he died—he got more affectionate. Still aloof and as stubborn as the day is long, but would come up and demand to be petted, and would take up his spot as sentinel at the ingress/egress to whatever room we were in.
Our other dog had been a stray and was outwardly affectionate but truly seemed to make no connection to people, either out of perpetual wariness or possibly a doggie personality disorder. Yet she was the best dog she could be, and it sucked just as painfully to say goodbye to her when her time came.
Much sympathy, Roy, to you and your wife. Good dog, Sweetie.
Condolences, Roy. This brought tears to my eyes.
The picture threw me a bit. Knock off a few years, add a few pounds and that's our Hera. Same make, slightly different model. The wife says Hera is the name of a Greek goddess. I say, I could sure use a little Hera the dog right now, especially after reading today's post. My condolences.
Give your girl a proper period of mourning. But remember what they say about wanting friends in Washington.
This is a lovely piece. As a newly-initiated member of the Clan of Dog (after 60 years of being a cat guy), I am somewhat new to the intensity of the human/dog relationship, but I’m starting to get it. Please make this shareable, if possible.
Seconded. I know a dog lover who would really relate to this. And my sympathy to you and your wife, Roy.
Condolences to you and your wife, Roy. They're all good doggos.
That breaks my heart - in a good way, with that sweet pain of loss. Sweetie is like my partner's cat: pain in the ass to everyone, tolerates me, LOVES him.
Condolences, man. My wife rescues Rhodesian Ridgebacks (and others), so we've had a long parade of rescues and surrenders come and go. Actually, the best line I ever heard about dogs was in a commercial for, I think, Beneful: "They don't pretend to be something they're not." ("Unlike everybody else," I thought.) We recently adopted out two RR's, one of whom drove me crazy with his "separation anxiety," dumping the kitchen trash, stealing any food not nailed down if I left the vicinity for a minute, etc. "Are you going to miss them?" someone asked. I had to stop and admit the answer was, is, yes.
My condolences to both of you. Beautiful essay.
This is the shit, Roy. Jack Nicholson, singing "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," laugh-crying, "Over a dog!" Thank you so much for sharing this.
Oh God, I'd forgotten that but yeah, very much yeah.
Reading this, and also the wonderful comments, leaves me thinking of the research that's been done in recent years about the evolution of dogs' abilities to read human emotions and reactions as they progressed through the millennia with us from our joint origins in Africa. Your description of Sweetie's repetoire of mockings and teasings and floutings - which was great, and funny, and so touching, Roy - seems to me the perfect demonstratioin of that long-nurtured understanding between the four-footed and the two-footed. And you did your part in it, too.
My pain-in-the-ass young puggle, also a rescue, is manipulating me at this moment. Your tribute makes me grateful to be bow to his naughty will. I know about that grief, too, and feel for you and Sweetie's mom. Thanks for writing this.