As some of you know, I wrote often about my need to avoid the emotionalizing and extreme grief that often comes with loving a dog.
I don’t want that to be my experience, having a dog is a joy and privilege to me and I won’t make it a misery, I owe that to Red. He deserves more than that, his life is one worth celebrating.
That doesn’t mean I’m not sad when a dog dies, when Red dies it will leave a big hole in me and my life, for sure.
So I’m trying to deal with his illness and impending death in a rational and caring way, for him, for me and Maria, for the many people who love him.
This is a balancing act, for sure, and sometimes I feel like a hypocrite. Normally, I just say goodbye to dogs and move on.
With Red, it’s not so simple. I thought of this today when I took him to Albany, an hour away, to say another goodbye. His life was always entwined with the lives of other people, from Karen Thompson to the Mansion residents to the Bishop Maginn refugee students.
I brought Red to the Bishop Magin High School today, he is much loved there, and it’s becoming impossible for him to travel now – he can’t see or get in and out of a car by himself – so I’m taking him around to say goodbye, even though he may be around a good while longer.
We’ve been to a doctor’s office, to the dentist, to the Mansion (he might go back there once in a while) and today, to Albany, for his last visit to Sue Silverstein, who calls him “my dog,” and her renegade band of wonderful young refugee artists.
This kind of farewell tour is just too much of a trip for him to be taking as he declines.
There are three or four other places I would like to take him, to some friends who say they loved him, to a former petsitter who stormed off in a huff because I hired someone else to help out on the farm for a few days.
If she loves Red as much as she claimed, I ought to give her the chance to say goodbye. I’ll have to think about that.
I’m a little queasy about this farewell tour, it seems dramatic, even maudlin to me at times. The decision to take this tour is one of those moral decisions I write about, but I think it’s something that it is good to do, and that I ought to do.
But how could one really be comfortable with it?
Red is not just my dog, thanks to my writing and his nature, he belongs to a lot of people. I feel a responsibility to let him say goodbye to them, and them to him. It seems callous of me for him to simply disappear from the world one day – this will happen – while he’s still able to say goodbye.
I don’t want to be parading him around while he’s sick, and I am allergic to drama, I’ve had too much of it in my life.
I wondered about taking him to Albany today. But it worked out. Despite the heat and the humidity, I helped him get up into the car, and he made it down the shiny floors into Sue Silverstein’s room. It was a good thing to do, especially with children.
There, Sue and her students took out a mat for him, as they usually do, plied him with biscuits, pats, and hugs. They are coming to the farm in a couple of weeks (we pushed it back because of the heat.
On this farewell tour, there has been no drama. No tears, no intense emotionalizing, people are considerate, affectionate and appropriate. The dictionary definition of maudlin is to be “weakly and effusively” sentimental.
This doesn’t feel like that to me, just the opposite. It helps me to deal with his illness and loss in a measured, step-by-step way, and it fulfills my responsibility to others. But it isn’t easy either.
Just a few more visits to go, then nothing for him but peace.
Jon, Not sure what answer you’re looking for, but it would be easier on Red if people could come to him. Less discomfort, less pain. Here’s a question I have often wondered- Do dogs know they have tomorrow? My first BC slept right next to me, head to head, & he would wake up w/ this smile & dimple every morning and seem to be saying “Hot Damn! I have another day! I get to do everything I did yesterday! What a gift! How great is this? His enthusiasm shamed me, because we say the same thing, but definitely in a different tone. Being my first BC years ago, he taught me alot, but reminding me we are not promised tomorrow is something I cherished. Thoughts?
Thanks Sandy, but no, this is far easier on him, and on the people who would like to see him. It’s working fine, just strange and sometimes unsettling. I know what I’m doing, and I know him.
Jon, I don’t feel anything *maudlin* about what you are doing. You are sensitive and caring enough to allow so many people whom Red has touched……to say their goodbyes while this is possible….. and I can only see this as positive. Sharing him in this way is healing for everyone……although it must be quite difficult and challenging for you. You are a kind, perceptive and generous man……. I also feel you are preparing yourself , and generously sharing this time with others who will support and understand you when the time of loss comes. May it not be soon
Susan M
Doing this with him, a farewell tour, is very generous from your part. It shows all the love and respect you have for your dog, the wonderful Red.
You’re careful not to over-stress him. These good-bye’s probably mean more to the people than to him, but who knows? Better to experience farewells from loving friends than to stay behind, cooped up in the house, while he’s still able, in a limited way, to go out in the world with you.
After reading you post, I thought maybe it would be easier on Red for people to come to him. Then I thought about it a while and decided, no, Red is a very, very, special, special working dog. He is totally used to going TO people and is at his happiest when he is working. I think you are doing the right thing as long as you and he are able to physically achieve your destinations.
I think both he and his “fans” deserve a chance to say good bye. I don’t think it is maudlin at all.
My dog had a young man that just sizzled to take him for walks…..was so proud to think he was mature enough to trust with someones dog. Proud in the community because the dog treated him like a best most amazing friend everytime he saw him. Dozens of outings. Kid grew up, moved out of area, we moved. We managed to get together once on a trip back this way. Then . Bone cancer in my dog. So tired of cancer in my dogs….time goes by, my dog was saying it’s getting close, I cannt do much anymore…I always listen to my dogs. I’d decided to let him go the next day. Couldn’t sleep. Across my fb feed…his boy is on the bus up from cali, arrives at 8 am. Out of years months,days, hours of random time and great distance he appears right then!! I picked him up, an hours drive away, brought him home to see my dog. My dog, his dog….was overjoyed!!! We laughed, we cried. We were together, we talked, we were quiet. At one point he picked up our dog n walked around the yard holding him. Sat down on lawn n put his face in hs neck n cried. I had to leave them then. Our dog said goodbye to his kid. I drove the kid back to his dad whs bd he had come up for. My dog Rueger was happy he got to see his boy again. Rueger was the best dog. I was happy I got yo give him one last crazy walk with his kid.
Red has so many who love him. I only had a chance to meet him at 2 of your open houses but was so glad I did! After reading about him from your blog I loved him! And still do. Plus Fate, Gus and now Bud. And the dogs from your books!
I think it is wonderful that you are bringing Red to meet those who love him. And whom he loves! They give much love to him and that makes him happy! You are able to have him do this and still be comfortable. What a gift for him! One of the last things you can do for him. Thank you for the sharing of your life and your precious dogs, like Red.