Saying Goodbye to an old friend

I have to say goodbye today to my beloved vizsla, Captain Spaulding. He sustained a spinal injury about 2 months ago and his health has deteriorated sharply since. He cannot get up and walk, his blatter and bowel functions are pretty close to gone and he shivers with pain if not on a pain killer. While attributing a human experience like suffering to an animal was not deemed to be appropriate to apply to animals in the past, C.S. Lewis wrote there are higher animals, like pets who become part of a family and so deserve some of the sanctity reserved for people. Whether Spaulding’s pain creates suffering for him the family is suffering for him. So balancing that suffering and the sanctity of his family life, that hard decision to end the suffering and free him has been taken and his suffering and pain will stop today. A vet will visit us this afternoon and do what they do. Sparlings’ remains will be buried just above my vineyard under an apple tree, a tree that is usually very fruitful, but for some reason barren this year. It is a beautiful spot worthy of his memory. We have had Spaulding for a decade. Our house in Prague had been broken into and one of the more tolerable security measures was get a dog. As for providing better security, he failed, but was great to us as a family member. Maybe not so great as a neighbor or friend (to humans that is, he got along well with most of the dogs in our various neighborhoods and had sincere affection for some). To people visiting or who we may come across, he could be an example of the prefect dog or the perfect monster. It was impossible to predict and often you came away with the same result. He terrorized old ladies on the beach for no understandable reason while being affectionate and protective of my aging Mother. On one occasion, he jumped into a visiting friends lap introducing her white blouse to her red wine. So, while Spaulding may have been a saint to some of us, he was not that kind of saint. Spaulding brought us together simply by walking and sitting with us. In the beautiful parks of Prague, the beaches of Florida or the forests of Latvia, walking Spaulding was a totally enjoyable and bonding experience. His instincts as a bird dog and pointer made it impossible for him to walk next to you. Instead, he would be out in front exploring, constantly circling you as you progressed, ensuring that every creature within 100 feet of your path was tormented with curiosity and usually chased away. His nobility upon finishing the task was second to none, his purpose and role in walking we humans safely complete. Nature was a better with Spaulding in it. Sitting at the dinner or picnic table, his place was in my lap, offering the occasional chin lick, never stealing food but seducing me to share what was on my plate. He was always an interested conversationalist, always winding up with the most good stuff without really giving away his motives for participation. On the couch for the occasional evening we might be watching a movie or binge watching some TV show, he only needed to be in the spot you unknowingly pre-warmed for him. He enjoyed television and gave me great competition on who fell asleep first. He never had to hold the TV channel changer and always made sure any bowl of ice cream started was finished and quite clean. Our connection pure, he somehow loved the things I love. He had an incredibly expressive face and was often speaking to you, although in his own language. You pretty much always knew where he stood on most domestic big issues, like; should cats or other dogs be invited to the dinner table, now would be a good time for a walk, now would be a good time for dinner or a snack, and other less important issues. He also expressed the thought; are you two arguing because that is creating too much stress for me. He and his face often promoted domestic tranquility. We shared homes in three countries over two continents the last decade. We shred many movies together. I first saw the film Marley and Me on a plane from Prague headed to New York with him in the cargo hull (maybe increasing its tear jerk ending a million-fold). Walks, meals, movies, all will be less enjoyable without him. So today I say goodbye to my friend. There is no question he is this man’s best friend. I take a bit of comfort though, since I believe heaven will be for each of us a place where God’s love is perfected with all of his creation, I will see you again one day my friend.