I actually feel rather peaceful about Spencer's death. It's been different than when Butler and Darcy (see the canines label) died as both deaths were sudden and unexpected. Spencer was old and feeble and, on Monday morning, there was no turning back for him -- it was time for him to meander across the "Rainbow Bridge". I would love to know who was there to greet him on the other side. Maybe I'll get a sign -- I hope, if I do, I recognize it for what it is. There have been a few times, after we've lost other dogs, that I think I hear them. It's usually at night, once everything is quiet. One time in particular, I remember saying to Mark, "I think I just heard Dax" and he said, without missing a beat, "I did, too." It's almost as if they are checking in, making sure we're okay before they head on.
With the last two dog deaths, it took a long time before I really was able to remember the good times -- and, with Darcy, who died only two months ago (it feels like years with him, while Butler still feels like yesterday), I don't think I've gotten to that point yet. But, with Spencer, I can already bring up warm remembrances.
Memories like opening up a box from Windsor Jewelers (Christmas, '97) and finding a Boston Terrier charm for my bracelet, then opening up a second box and finding a tiny dog collar and a photo of a tiny puppy.
"Where is he?" I asked through my tears, wondering if Mark had, somehow hidden him under the tree --he hadn't -- we had to trek out to the breeder's kennel to pick him up. I have no idea what other gifts I -- or anybody else -- got that Christmas.
I can already laugh at the image of Spencer, diving in our pool, after a torpedo toy -- he could go down about four feet -- eyes wide open, eyes bulging, holding his breath -- with his black and white coloring, I always said he looked like a penguin. He liked to be wherever humans were -- well, I guess most dogs are that way -- but he was like a Wal-mart greeter -- come on in, how you doing, what can I do to make your day brighter...
I remember when Shannon had a bunch of friends over for her 18th birthday (I think that's when it was), Mark and I would occasionally wander through the crowd (because, as a parent, that's what you do) and we always found Spencer in the thick of things, while the other dogs were like, "who are these people?"
One of the funniest things was the way Spencer sat. We called him "turkey legs" because he'd be in a sitting position with his back legs out behind him. It's a little hard to see in the photo but those are the bottoms of his back feet.
And, while I often call the dogs by some version of their names (like Clayby for Clayton 0r Mads for Madigan), Spencer had a totally separate nickname -- Diddle -- babytalk for "little" -- which he responded to as well as his "real" name.
So, the good and funny memories are already coming, making me grateful that he was in my life, even if 12 years isn't nearly enough.
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As an aspiring writer, I blog about whatever happens to move me at the moment -- though some posts contain serious content, my big-picture goal is to bring a little humor into an often humorless world! Welcome, y'all, and make yourself at home! Please make sure you update your bookmarks!
When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus