Here’s looking at you, kid

SIX DEGREE’S OF CANINE SEPARATION

“Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.”

“It’s still the same old story/ A fight for love and glory…”

 

 

 

 

“I’m the only cause I’m interested in.”
“I’m the only cause I’m interested in.”

Dog Ma!

Bacon!!!!
Bacon!!!!

What is the embodiment of a great philosopher?  Is it the ability to perform with little in the manner of the spoken word and still keep a firm handle on your audience?

Take a dog.  A simpleton breed.  A bizarre mixture of stubborn, rowdy and forever horny; beagle.  And, add a small but potent dose of DNA containing a flat footed, nothing but gums and bad teeth, bulldog.

How could something so saintly stupid yet desirably bursting with bad jokes be a possible poet?

When times have singled us out as the worse person in the world, or so we believe; the only descendent by our side, the dog.  The Beabull.  The Lab-Doodle.  The  Jack Shih/ Zu.

As the year’s resolution fades into the inches we promised to not add to our waist; does not our trusted canine friend take every high calorie item out of our harm’s way?

In the depth’s of our anguish over the common cold that has effected us in an uncommon way; Fido, Princess, Benji, or as in my situation, Bogie, have made themselves our only needed remedy.  Our personally owned and operated Secret Not So Secret Service Animal.

What is a great philosopher?  A being that has built trust with little fanfare.  A component in our everyday lives in which we pay homage to.

A four legged fur lined Ying-Yang.  Breathing our sorrows in and releasing them into a pile of ‘it all makes sense now’ slobbered sobering awareness that there is something indeed greater than ourselves out there.

Homage to Allie

Image

Dysfunctional?  My family seemed like the Walton’s on Crack.  Families without texture?  How boring is that?

Yet, there had been pain; there had also been man’s and/or woman’s best friend.  I suppose if I were asked which animal I like to be domesticated by the most, I would have to say, the Dawg!

My family took me to the woods of New Hampshire several years before I wanted to become earthy.  They built their little log cabin.  They hung out their bear proof bird feeders. They waved at all the neighbors.

At some point during my tenure at the little shack that could Canterbury NH, I met Allie.  Allie was a beagle who knew a good meal.  Allie brought solace to everyone that met her.  And, as with anything good, Allie passed this week.  Her illness?  Lack of sleep!

So in homage to Allie.  And, to everyone’s Allie who has passed: 

 

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

 

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….

Author unknown…