Ffolkes,

Nervy bastards, aren’t they? Even when it’s counterproductive, or, for that matter, illegal, the congress of holiday droids brought in for this morning’s show insist on keeping their motors idling; it must be admitted, they look wonderful while they’re doing it. Of course, it always seems more like winter when they’re trundling about, showing off their latest chrome package, or some new style of working appendage.

Clyde and Em like to put out special feeders for them, but, if you do that, then use the wrong brand of oil, boy, do they get weirded out; I’ve seen them attack a guy who put one in his blog, and forgot to fill it; the only positive outcome was that the remains fit all in one box….. Maybe this year, we could ask the town council to have them stay over after the holidays, so we can have a better look at them when they’re not so involved in their dances and rituals…..

Once again, I’ve gone from fantasy, to folly, sidetracked over into severely stunted sincerity, stepped in some small piles of crap, and, now, come back around to fantasy…. We’ll end this here, as we’ve reached the legal minimum required by law, and can now make a serious attempt to get back into the creative portion of this…. whatever it is…..

Whatever it is, I can see it’s going to be a struggle to get it done today….. It’s never a good sign when I have to use a cudgel to beat stuff out of my brain, which is as close as I can come to an accurate description of how this is going so far…. Damn it, I’d hoped to get out of the intro without having to break into the first aid kit!….. As they are fond of saying downtown…. Oh, well….

I’m a dog lover, having had one in my family since I was born. One of them taught my younger sister and I to walk, by standing next to us, letting us stand & grab their fur, and then walking slowly away, pulling us with them….. Her name was Butch….   😆  

All my life I remember one dog or another being there, providing me and my siblings with the perfect example of how to get by in the world, and how to do that cheerfully; they show by example how to live with honor, joy, and compassion for all creatures. I consider the species to be the most morally and ethically advanced of all those on this planet, and if there were a God, then one could only assume that He put dogs here to be our mentors in that respect…..

Noah came to live with us when he was about 10 months old; we rescued him from taking the long walk at the Humane Society kennel in Santa Rosa. It was my son’s fifteenth birthday, and he wanted a dog, swearing up & down that he would take responsibility for its’ care. Pets were always part of family life when I grew up, and our last dog had been gone for a bit over a year, so it was time to expand the family once again.

As Cory and I walked down the aisle between cages at the kennel, a large variety of dogs started a welcoming cacophony of different barks; shrill tiny ones, deep booming ones, polite yips, all blended together in an almost desperate frenzy, as each animal, many of them almost frantic, tried to get our attention. Some pawed at the gate, some jumped up, some looked nervous, others looked friendly, and all of them, it seemed, were making noise.

As we drew near the last cage in the aisle, we saw a medium-sized black and white dog, not barking, not jumping, just sitting down, leaning against the wall by the gate. He was looking me right in the eyes with an expression on his face that just said, “get me out of here, please!”. What could we do? He was obviously our dog, and he realized it too. We told him we’d be right back, and went back to announce our choice, and complete the paperwork.

Noah settled into the family immediately. He proved to be very well-mannered, both with people, and in his habits. When on walks, he would stop to sniff, and lift his leg, on every interesting bush and tree, just like any other male dog. But when he had to do his secondary business, he made it clear he preferred to go behind a bush, or somewhere out of the way, and preferably out of sight.

He would assume a very embarrassed expression when not sufficiently hidden from sight, and would turn away, as if he felt guilty. A very private, discreet individual, to say the least. If he had been overlong between walks, and was so much in a hurry that he made a mistake on the sidewalk, he would act just like a cat, and pretend that it had not happened. What mess? Who me? I don’t know what you’re talking about…..

Noah was an extremely intelligent dog; I’ve known a great many animals in my time on this old planet, and he’s one of the smartest I’ve ever been around. When he came to live with us, at about 10 months of age, he already knew how to sit on command (both voice and hand), to lie down, and to stay. 

Truth be told, he had a little trouble with the whole concept of stay; he didn’t like being left alone, and would often follow after a minute or two; it’s like he just didn’t want to believe we really MEANT for him to stay. He figured he should be with us so he could do his job. As long as he could see us, he’d stay where he was; if he couldn’t, he believed it was his place to find us, and we just couldn’t come to terms; on this point he was firm.

We also never had to teach Noah any tricks, as he seemed to have figured stuff out on his own, and his way was definitely cool….The first time I ever gave him a treat (a milk bone), I showed it to him and told him to sit. He sat. I told him to speak, and he gave one quick howl. I held out my hand, & he offered his own to shake. I straightened up, tossed the treat in the air, and watched him not just catch it, but after making the in-air snag like a professional left-fielder, he tossed it back up into the air. He watched it hit the floor, whereupon he dove on top of it, rolled over, and did a happy dance, by twisting his back and hips as if scratching his back on the floor.

I swear, he looked just like Snoopy doing the Dance of Joy. When he was done dancing on his back, he rolled over and proceeded to enjoy his milk bone, with a big twinkle in his eye. I always wanted to video the move to submit it for Stupid Pet Tricks on the Letterman Show, but never had a camera handy when he performed his feat, so Noah missed his chance for stardom.

Noah’s gotten old now; we just observed his 17th birthday in February of this year, so in dog years, he’s going on 120 or so. He can’t hear anything but very loud noises, and can’t see more than a few feet, and I suspect that is mostly shadows and moving light. I’m afraid he will be passing on soon, as he can no longer get up without assistance, and cannot control his bodily functions. I sometimes feel like I should have him put down, to ease his pains, but he doesn’t act as if he is hurting, and I can tell he enjoys just lying around and sleeping, as long as he knows I am near.

For his entire life with us, over 16 and a half years, he has been a true and loyal companion. He has observed with honor the pact that was made between man and dog many thousands of generations ago, and taking care of him in his declining years is both a privilege, and an honor. In my entire life, I have never known anyone more loyal, more compassionate, and more courageous in standing up to life. He is by far the best friend that any man could hope for, and by far the best person I’ve ever known……

R.I.P. Old Friend

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Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer
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Which is Why….