Dog Gone Death

Sam asked me to stop by and visit with him.

His father had just passed away and he knew that both of my parents were recently taken, so he thought I could be some comfort to him. I would understand what he was going through – what he was facing.

I wasn’t too sure.

Losing a parent is a personal experience. It is like losing an arm or a leg or giving up a kidney.  It is part of your heritage, your lineage. Gone. And when you lose both mother and father, you, even as an adult, feel a tad bit like an orphan.  At least I did.

I was lost and floating freely out there in that great spatial expanse we call life. And it was very lonely.  True, I had my loving wife, my three adorable – if not slightly expensive – children and a dog.

Oh yes, the dog.

How could I forget the dog.  That is what really got me through those tough times right after my mother passed.  Sadie, the name she allows us to call her, was a real comfort and a real friend during those dark and lonely days.  She didn’t ask for anything, other than a belly rub and an occasional walk around the block. She didn’t try to carry on useless conversations about the weather or how natural mother looked in her coffin or try and share recipes about someone’s aunt’s cornbread pudding that was always served at wakes.

No, Sadie was the perfect companion during the loss of my parents. Not that my wife and kids didn’t fill a special place – they did.  But Sadie was able to get in my lap, lay her head down, sigh deeply and fall asleep, knowing that I would not dare move to wake her.  And that stillness and solitude did me good. It also kept nosy neighbors away who just wanted to talk about cornbread pudding recipes. Or worse, the Rangers.

After a week of this, Sadie grew tired of the routine and annoyed at me for not taking her on longer and more adventurous walks.  So the outings went from a few minutes to half hours to three-quarters of an hour and the time away from the sofa stretched into half days and longer and soon Sadie had me up and moving about the house in real time doing real chores, taking care of her in the manner to which she had grown accustomed, before all this human talk about “death” entered her world.

Feed me.  Walk me. Pet me. And let me sleep. Very simply life. And it was my job again to see to it that she was comfortable in that life.  She had nursed me through the hard times and now it was time for me to return to my job – taking care of her. She is, after all, a kept dog.

So when my friend called me back to set up a time to rendezvous, I asked him if the family friends were gathering around the house yet?  He said they were and he was going crazy.  “Too much discussion of cornbread pudding?” I asked.

“No, but a lot of talk about cherry cobbler recipes.  Our family always brings cherry cobblers.” I told him in my neighborhood and with my kin it was cornbread pudding. “So you understand what I am going through, then,” he said.

I told him I did and I told him I wasn’t the one who he should turn to for help at this hour. 

He needed a dog.

A lap dog. A small dog who would curl up with him and take the burden onto himself or herself. And then when it was time for the grief to leave, the dog would lead him back to this life as it is supposed to be lived.

“A dog?” He asked.

“Yes. A dog.  They are better than religion and usually cheaper than therapy and they make really warm bed pals when the wintertime cold feet set in.”

“How did you know all this?” he asked.

“Sadie taught me.”

He paused on the phone for a second then asked, “What will you do when Sadie goes?”

“I don’t know.  I always imagined that Sadie would go before Mom. And I would have her to lean on.  Now, I don’t know. Maybe get a second dog.  You know, one in training.”

“Wouldn’t Sadie know?”

“I’m sure somewhere deep inside she would, but she would also want me to be taken care of. That’s the kind of dog she is.”

“This death business is tough.” He said as I could hear his voice crack ever so slightly.

“That’s why you need a dog.”

He hung up the phone and I went and got Sadie’s leach. Time for the afternoon stroll around the neighborhood. Got to keep her healthy and active until I find her backup. Sadie growled just a little growl. (And they say dogs don’t know…ha! They do.)

Yeah, this death business is tough.