Historical February 1995 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
Part of my job is to help people decide when it is the time to put their pet “to sleep”. Although these occasions are always sad, it also can be very touching, and can be one of the times I feel closest to my clients. Articles about the human animal bond frequently appear in my professional journals.
With his permission, I would like to share one clients’ thoughts on the loss of his pet.
Some Thoughts on my Best Friend by L A Sockey “I feel like I am leaving my best friend a friend who taught me right from wrong weak from strong that’s a lot to learn. what could I give you In return?
If you wanted the moon I would write in letters one thousand feet high TO SIR WITH LOVE’ A silly song, I guess, but we romantics tend to be a little silly and even poetic in otherwise humdrum times.
But how do you say goodbye to someone who has been your best friend, your confidante, your pal, your buddy, your coconspirator and conniver, your constant source of affection and laughter?
He had a full life in his sixteen years and everyday was lived with enthusiasm from that little heart that beat so strong with both love and determination.
There are so many things to remember him doing–canoeing the Current river and camping on its gravelbars; going to “grandpa’s” ranch in Oklahoma and running wild in the pastures and going bass fishing at 6:30 every morning with uncle Homer; getting himself evicted from the winery in Augusta by the middle aged German woman who insisted “He digs too much”; patrolling Lafayette Park (he seemed to think he was the park warden and was not content until every squirrel was up a tree and every duck was in the water); making his circle of Lafayette Square and South Euclid (where the people at Basically Bagels still ask about him, and Rosie keeps a framed picture of him above the bar); being the official mascot of Salvatore’s restaurant (again having a framed 8X11 displayed prominently); driving through Forest Park and stopping at Art Hill for a tour of the golf course; riding at various times in a Volvo, and RX7, a Corolla and a Camry that had magical windows that he could cause to go down– just by looking at me–so he could hang his snoot out to catch the breeze; playing “wild wolf’ on the floor while making horrifying barks and growls and other guttural utterances; of seeing him sit and beg for popcorn or grapes or cauliflower or carrots or cheddar until you knew he had to be full; taking him to see the girls at Dogtowne Groomers( in Dogtowne, of course); of quiet talks we shared; of his lying on me as I stretched out on the couch and he always falling asleep there and snoring in my ear; of his big dark brown eyes that turned black when he was so intense; calling him “granite head” (he could be hardheaded) or little hemmy” (as in hemorrhoid) when he was so determined and persistent; of cuddles and doggie kisses and total loyalty and trust and love. And yet from this twenty six pound package of claw and fur and snoot, I too learned so much. Things like
- to have a good time wherever you go
- to not worry about being anything except what you are (after all, that is how God made you)
- that life is predominantly attitude
- to always look for the good in others
- that a stranger is just someone you have not yet met Sometimes we would be walking around the neighborhood and someone I did not recognize would honk and wave at us.
When I looked down to him he just seemed to shrug and say, “Oh that is someone I met in the park”. Everybody knew Sherlock.
He had a personality that was impossible to ignore and an ingratiating way of making even people who were not dog lovers, want to stop and pat him, ask his name and inquire about his breed. And he always had a smile for everyone! Since he was just a pup he always liked special days and holidays and we celebrated so many of them. And this year, a little after midnight on December the seventh–PEARL HARBOR DAY– he laid his little head down and simply went to sleep. And yet when I watch It’s A Wonderful Life I will always remember that God sends a Clarence into many of our lives.
We just have to have the simplicity to recognize it.
For all that is real cannot be seen.
After all, what is the color of joy or the shape of laughter or the state of love? And I find it both impossible and unnecessary to say, “Goodbye”, but rather, “So Long, Little Buddy. You are the best.
I loved you and I still do.”
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, February 1995.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1995_02.pdf, printed page(s) 6; PDF page(s) 5.
