I am sure Leon will share many stories about Bridger in
the next decade or so. Amos, who is described in his own chapter in the Crunchy
Granola Book, is still the star of so many of our homestead decade episodes. That’s
how it goes when a loved one dies. Those of us who have loved another animal in
our household know very well the intense feeling of affection for them as well
our human loved ones.
Here’s one for you Leon about Bridger in your family:
At one of those events at your house that involved lots
of family and friends on a brilliant summer day, your nine-year old daughter played
joyfully with the household pets including three dogs and a cat. Because Bridger
was the oldest and most obedient at the time she decided to teach him “tricks” –
jumping through hula hoops, racing through a child-designed obstacle course,
and with full exuberance accepting the “reward” of barking-screaming laughter
and big furry hugs. The young one did this training with so much enthusiasm that
her 14-year-old sister, who had been trying to be sophisticated among the ‘tweens,
wrestled with boring teendom or the pure joy of her baby sister and beloved
dog. We watched the moment of submission when the 14-year-old decided that she
deserved one more childhood fling and to Bridger’s happy surprise the two girls
unabashedly played, ran the course, jumped the hoops and rolled the earth with
their big furry buddy. It was a sight I will never forget.
It hurts so to let them go. Amos taught me so much about
living on beyond dying. I am so grateful to have had him in our lives as you
are with your Bridger.
So this little
blog today is a tribute to all who love and all who have loved a cherished pet
friend. May your memories be superb.
If you like funny stories and a couple of sad stories I hope you take a look at the book A Homestead Decade -How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life (Amazon Kindle, $2.99, for all types of reading devices). Thanks for stopping by.
Helene
This is Leon, who in my sister's mind, whenever she was agitated, either called me 'Leon', 'Guy’ (my nephew and Helene's son), or 'Amos'. Amos was a great dog: a dog of magnificence. A dog Kerouac. A dog of love and life. Amos would run with reckless abandon, and then later in the day attempt to work his way into the room of Helene and Joel's cozy house by using his nose as an indicator. Amos would visit the neighboring farms like a chevalier, and come back with his hat cocked and a swagger.
ReplyDeleteMy Bridger was a magnificent dog: A being who truly knew his cosmic purpose. He was a hunter. More, he was a hunting friend, a partner, a conspirator, and part of me. He had clairvoyance. If I thought of hunting, Bridger knew. If I went to go, he was in the car and refused to leave. If I left him, as I had to in his later days, he howled. Bridger sensed everything about the birds, the field, and the shooter. He was the ‘commission dog’ as one of my best buddies Mark put it, everything was on the sale (the bird). No hanging around the cooler, get to work and put something in the pouch. Bridger lived to hunt, and hunted to live.
He was a great friend. At the end, as I had carried him into the vet. I was petting him: his lower body had totally wasted away, but his upper paws were strong. I stopped for second, and he took his great healthy paw and grabbed my hand and lifted his head and looked me in the eye. He was telling me everyhting was alright. It was.
Live our lives, friends. Love our companions. And if my sister calls me Amos, I shall be honored. Maybe she’ll call me Bridger as well.