Death. The final solution. The grim reaper. Harvester of souls. The common final denominator. Feared or revered but never shared and never avoided. The last tango.
The great cosmic trip to where? It is like our births alone and personal.
Where did Bob, the 11 yr old Italian Greyhound, with a fatal case of heart worms,go yesterday when he drew and blew his last breath and his heart was stilled? Thus leaving me to mourn selfishly for my loss. At the end he was Bob's head atop a skeleton with brown skin stretched over it. He had lost a lot of weight. He could barely walk from his bed in the garage to his sunning spots beside the gum tree. He stopped eating three days ago. When I greeted him as he lay in his death bed, he still wagged his little tail up until the end. He was my friend.
My relatives insisted I take Bob to the vet and "put him down." I preferred him to die in his own bed with his family of dogs and me around him. It was a doggy version of hospice, but we did not give him any narcotics to speed his release.
I began to dig his grave about 15 minutes before his death. He was a little fellow with a great big heart. Sure he killed a chicken or two in his time, but chickens belong in the pen where they are safe, and Bobby was just protecting his turf.
He was an athlete. He was blazing fast. He was so small often the larger dogs, a Walker Hound, and two lab mixes who share our home would step on Bob and all hell would break loose with Bob letting his clumsy transgressor know who was who. He was all bark and no bite as they say and the larger dogs who are all younger respected Bob, the old guy, and never answered his protests with any aggression.
I am a believer in life eternal, and I believe Bob has a soul just as sure as you and I have souls. If I am lucky, Bob will get reincarnated and we will be together for another few years.
Frankly, I wonder if I have enough time left for another dog in my lifetime?
Dogs are fine companions, but God was right to not let them speak to us. That could have screwed the whole "man's best friend" thing up.
The Skit:
Jack: Bob, what are your plans today?
Bob: I thought I would go over to the barn to check for loose chickens.
Jack: Bob, how many times have I asked you not to kill the chickens?
Bob: I know, Jack. But I can't help myself. It is in my nature.
Jack: In that case I am going to tie you to this tree for the rest of the day as this is in my nature.
Bob: Only if you can catch me, fat ass!
Jack: Come back here you little SOB!
I am a sad dog owner. But my sadness now is but a trifling payment for the 11 years of joy Bob brought into my life.
Godspeed Bobby! Your presence blessed us for many years. I love you.
Jack Maybolt
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