A Great Dog's Life Remembered

 

              This week I made it to the county seat of a neighboring rural county a distance away.  I go there sometimes to get horse and animal supplies, and we hadn't been there in a while.  Grandson and I were happy to go with all the trees in their full glory in reds, yellow, oranges and a little green.

                Often when we go to this town we encounter a man who is a veteran, who walks with an exceptionally well trained dog who is large part rottweiler.  He once told me that the dog is an emotional support dog.   "Aren't they all? " I said,  not really getting, at that moment, what he was trying to tell me, about himself.   Over the years we have really enjoyed encountering them. My grandson, now eight, has grown up going to this town, eating in the little "mom and pop" restaurant, shopping in the locally owned stores, and encountering the dog and his man. 

                  I cannot effectively relate how lovely this dog always was to me. The man affectionately called him "Dog Meat", and he certainly was the most muscular or meaty dog I think I have ever known.   The dog was a true muscular giant with a heart of gold.  Most dogs like me, even when I did the census, and this one was no exception. He was always glad to see me, and he clearly recognized me each time I saw him.  His owner had a theory that his dog, who had been a puppy on a farm and whose early best friends had been horses, smelled horses and my other multiple dogs on me, and knew that I was a friend to both horses and dogs. The dog was consistently obedient, loving and sweet although occasionally, his enthusiastically wagging tail would smart your legs as he wagged.

                  I remember taking one of my larger dogs to an immunization event in this town during the COVID lockdowns, and there was "Dog Meat" and his owner.  "Dog Meat" was happy to see me, but the dog I had brought, part Borzoi and German Shepherd, was a new acquisition to me, and he wasn't the least bit happy to see that a dog as muscular as "Dog Meat" not only knew me, but took an interest in me. My poor shepherd mix quickly conveyed that he was ready to fight to the death if necessary. I told "Dog Meat" I would see him next time, and that this new dog didn't know him.  He seemed to understand. But of course, "Dog Meat" has always been a highly intuitive dog.

                   This week when my grandson and I went to the town, we saw the veteran walking another dog.  The new dog is a large young shepherd, and of course, doesn't know us. I did know that the man had been planning to get a second dog, and to begin training him. I asked about "Dog Meat" and how he was doing. The man had tears in his eyes as he related that "Dog Meat" had died three weeks before. The large dog had been ten years old, and although he was healthy until about half of his last day, the man knew that his friend's passing would soon be inevitable, simply due to age . "Dog Meat" seemed relieved at the man's having brought the shepherd puppy home, knowing that his owner was deeply dependent upon him, and would need a new dog on which to depend..

                  "Dog Meat", my family and I were deeply dependent upon you too. Seeing you every time I went to the town, and having you happy to see me was such an affirmation of so many things. It affirmed that dogs are as bright as I know them to be, and that they recognize the people who truly adore the species. I know that many people from town will miss you, even the police officer who insisted that you still be on a leash, even though you could walk with your owner totally obediently without one.  Even during difficult times, "Dog Meat" could lift my own spirits.  We love you and thank you for a life so well lived. You will be sorely missed, and will be remembered always.

                 As we went to leave, the dog's owner said to me. "I will never forget him, and I am not sure I will ever get over him".  "I understand", I replied.  "You will go on because he wants you to, but you will always remember and you will always miss him."  The man deserved not to have the truth sugar coated.  I miss so many wonderful dogs who are gone from my life now, even when they lived to and beyond their normal life expectancy.  

                 Godspeed, "Dog Meat".

As the Times Turn

                 

 

 

   Like most children, I spent a lot of time trying to understand my parents.  I grew up in the 1970s, and they seemed to worry a good deal.  My father worried about potential job losses and recessions and gas prices. He worried about our safety and about people who seems inappropriately interested in his children.  My mother worried about our educations and whether we were learning as much as we needed to. She never seemed happy, and at times, I think she was depressed.  To me, this seemed silly.  We lived in a rural community which became more suburban as I grew. The crime rate was low. Families bought new cars regularly. Most of us had a pretty decent annual vacation.  Every parent I knew was happily employed, and if something went wrong, they found a new job within two weeks to a month.  There were opportunities for everyone who wanted them, it seemed to me, and those who wished to attend colleges had their pick.

                    What I didn't understand at the time, was that my father had signed up for the Merchant Marine at 16, and had seen WWII from the standpoint of the ship delivering the supplies.  My mother had been one of the children separated from her family and sent to live in the country when London was unmercifully bombed. She lost friends, family and loved ones. She literally did not see any family for a couple of years, and her life had not been easy. The war had taken much from them and had caused them to find one another later than they may have otherwise, and it had therefore caused them to have their children later than they otherwise may have had them.

                   I had not understood as a child and as a teen was that my parents had worked very hard to find the place and to craft the circumstances in which I had the luxury of living as I did and of judging them for being too concerned, and for not enjoying life as I thought they should.

                   God has both a sense of humor and a desire to answer some of the questions we once asked in our youth.  As my own young adult children, my little grands, and my family navigate gas prices of $4.60 a gallon, and home prices higher than my kids had ever imagined, in an era where Russia invades Ukraine, and a demented fool occupies our White House, I understand my parents better. They knew turmoil and loss and even when it seemed over, they had the knowledge that difficult times could and likely would return again someday.  My family stands now on the precipice of these really difficult times again.

                     So as you navigate these difficult times with so much skin in the game, remember that your grandparents, your parents, your children and your grandchildren have been trained by the times in which they lived in order to navigate them. Try to look on them with love rather than thinking them out of sync or perhaps behind the times.  In a sense, we are experts at living in the times in which we now find ourselves.