In Memoriam: Lucy

Lucy was my dog, my good and faithful hound. She was my best friend, my baby girl, and my source of constant amusement. She was an excellent beggar (making dogs world-wide jealous of her penultimate skill), and was able to wheedle nibbles from even the coldest of hearts. I am not so illusioned as to think that the pain I feel at her loss is quite as acute as that of losing a child, however as a man that will never have children of his own, this is as close as I will ever feel to that sort of pain. Please, if you don't think that a pet's death is worth grief, just keep that shit to yourself.

It was about eight years ago that I started wanting a dog. I had always had dogs in my childhood, and after years of wandering in my young adult phase, I was ready to have another. I've always loved dogs, and often have something of a canine outlook on life myself. So, I gathered up my best friend, and went to the Human Society, in search of a suitable companion to rescue.

There were many dogs to choose from, but only two were 'cash and carry'. The others would require an extra expinditure of having them 'fixed', and the process would take three days. The two that were available, because they were already fixed, were a beautiful white Siberian, and a skinny, broken-souled American Foxhound. The Siberian was exuberant and had a personality that just shone through her eyes, and a part of me wanted to take her home the moment I laid eyes on her. However... that foxhound, when her kennel was approached, would shrink away, and look to the side. I knew that Siberian would find a home soon enough, as beautiful as she was, so I chose the foxhound.

My friend was hesitant at first, but when I explained that this dog looked like she needed more love than the other one did, he understood.

At home, she fit right in. She only peed on the floor once, and after that, didn't even need to be shown to scratch at the door. She was afraid of the air conditioner. She hated squeaky toys. She just HAD to sleep in the bed with us, and that was just fine.

She was so smart. It took only a couple of tried for her to learn a new trick, but beyond that, she was a very smart dog. She could not be fooled by the 'false throw' maneuver. In her time with us, she had been moved a few times, and each time she found a new home, she adjusted quickly, assimilating the new situation with ease.

In one such situation, we had moved from Arkansas to Tennessee, though I was making a layover in Kentucky, with the aforementioned best friend. He and I took out dogs on a walk, a long one at that, with lots of turns and twists. We stopped at a local park and sat for a while, and when it was time to go back home, I looked at Lucy and said, "Take us home, girl." And she did. Without hesitation at each turn, she chose the correct path. Had she even been half-way sniffing the ground, I would have thought she was just following her own trail, but she rarely even looked at the ground. She led me all the way back to an unfamilar home in the middle of a city she had never been to. Frankly, I was amazed, and I don't think that's just pet parent bravado.

About a year into her life with us, we also recieved our cat, Lyran. He was so tiny, just a kitten that shouldn't have been weaned yet. He was so sick, and it took everything we had to nurse him back to health. During this time, Lucy was curious, but totally gentle, with not even a growl. She even whined a little when we would not let her see him. When Lyran was well enough to roam the house, Lucy was so gentle, and literally treated him like he was her pup.

I am sure that has something to do with why my cat is so retarded, he thinks he's a dog!

She was a jealous girl too. Any time kiera and I would start to get snuggly, Lucy would make it known she was not happy about it. Sometimes, she'd even interpose her nose between us, and then look at me like I had done something wrong. When k and I had sex, she'd be outside the bedroom door (on the rare occasion it was actually IN the bedroom), and yowl about it. Afterward, she would give us a withering gaze, indicating that she knew what we had been up to, and disapproved. I'm going to miss that...

I don't know how old she was when we got her... she was full grown, but seemed to have plenty of puppy left in her. I guessed her at about two, but there is no telling. We had her for eight wonderful years, so she did not have a short life. That girl was loved by every single person that came into my home, and was remarked on as being a good dog by anyone that met her. She was spoiled with morsels and toys and enough attention to fill another lifetime besides. I find it hard to truly be sad, because her life was a better than most, and her death was not as bad as many.

For those of you that are pet-parents of your own, thank you for the teats I know you must be shedding by now. If you are not a pet parent, then I hope you are at least touched.