Tuesday, March 07, 2006

RIP Oliver

My sweet dog has gone to Rainbow Bridge, as they say. The details hurt too bad to even write about. I will miss him so much, and I hope that saving another life might make up for him having to lose his the way he did.

If anyone reading this has any inclination to feel the most amazing love and peace and sense of purpose in your life, go to an animal shelter today and spring someone with four legs from death row. It will be a relationship you can't read about. You have to live it.

I went to lunch today with one of my very best friends, Hil. She grew up in Norway and the culture is very different with regard to personal pets. So she couldn't understand the pain, but she was still wonderfully sweet and really did make me feel better. I appreciated her beyond measure today. But here's why I really brought her and our lunch date up.... We were driving back and she was talking about getting a cat someday, especially if she ever has a child. However, she was also saying that she doesn't want to get one now. She went on about hair, and mess, and etc. And in regard to visiting her boyfriend's relatives homes who have cats, she said this:

Hair in my nose, hair on my clothes, hair every---where.

How Dr. Suess is that? It was the first time I felt the natural urge to smile in so many hours. It felt good. I love you Hilde.

And I loved you, Mr. Ollie Olliver, the White Fang Chief. I loved the way you insisted on riding on the center counsel of the car, the way you jumped up and down when you barked, and I also loved that you were so fearless. So spirited. So perfect. I will make this up to you somehow. I promise I tried to do the right thing for you all the time. I never meant for you to be hurt. You can never know how sorry I am that you got hurt, or how painful it is to let go of you. It hurts everywhere.

I remember how bad you stunk when I got you from that horrible shelter that smelled like burnt death. I remember how you were limp and lifeless and scared until I managed to pull you out the door, and then you went crazy with zest for life and appreciation for a second chance. You made more noise than a pack of starving lions and ran so crazy you practically convulsed. Then you peed so much it melted a square foot spot in the snow. I counted on having years of your company. Your bad habits never mattered. Your love made up for everything. I will never forget you.


Blogger L :-) said...

Hello espresso bean!

Thank you for the welcoming words you left on my blog.

I leave a quick comment on your post to say that I understand the pain you can feel after loosing your dog.
I have a dog myself and being very attached to him(it?), I do fully empathize with you.

Sat Mar 11, 03:37:00 PM GMT-5  
Blogger It's Me, Maven... said...

My eyes watered up when I read this.

Thu Mar 16, 04:06:00 PM GMT-5  

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