When I started this blog, I promised myself to stick to subjects more or less to do with writing. After all, I'm no movie star or international woman of mystery. My life is pretty prosaic in the grand scheme of things. I'm breaking that rule today, just because my heart is so full there is nothing else I could blog about this week.
I lost a very dear member of my family this week, my beloved dog, Skipper. To many people this might sound silly...after all, he was just a dog. Yet, he wasn't 'just a dog.' Skipper was a personality. He disliked most men, although he adored my husband and son. He was a great athlete, could run like the wind and jump higher than any other dog I've ever owned. He was a coward and was known to pee if frightened badly enough, but he was a loud coward, so he served his purpose in the watch-dog department. Skipper was an international traveller, having left Jamaica with us to settle in Canada, My husband forgot that many civil servants leave their sense of humour at home, and told the customs officer at the airport Skipper was a "Jamaican Bush Dog," and to date he has the distinction of being the only official member of the breed.
Yet, there was so much more. Skipper was a happy dog. He almost always had a smile on his face and his tail was always wagging, often in what we called 'helicoptor mode'; going around in circles and almost blinding the cats. He was the kind of dog who sensed when you weren't at your best and came to rest his head on your lap. He greeted us at the door, leaping straight up in the air so you could see almost his entire body through the glass at the top. You knew if anyone stirred in the house by the sound of his tail beating a tattoo on the floor or wall. He could charm food out of anyone except me...most of the time. Sometimes those liquid brown eyes were truly irresistible.
My daughter summed it up best. She was away when the decision was made that we could no longer be selfish and hold on to him, when he was obviously so ill and in such pain. When her father told her what had happened she said we made the right choice because, "he was so sad, and he was never sad, ever," before he got ill.
He was never sad, ever. What a wonderful epitaph. All love should be as happy, forgiving and selfless as that which he gave to us. We miss the love and the joy he brought to our lives and always will.