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Page added September 21, 2011 |
Lay down your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end
Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before
Fran Walsh, Howard Shore & Annie Lennox
"Into The West"
I remember a small fat Welsh Corgi Cardigan puppy that promptly bit me in the nose when I laid myself on the floor to pet him and his sisters, the first litter of Cardigans I had ever seen close up.
I remember how he came to live with me and my beloved lifemate Sanna, and chewed his way through a number of household items (including a wall with fiberglass wallpaper) into our hearts.
I remember the long walks through the fields and forests with him (he didn't stay fat for long!), his relentless chasing of voles and mice, the seemingly innumerable dog shows he attended as he grew up.
I remember how he became, for always to remain, Sanna’s "best dog of all time".
I remember how I started to think of him having the prototype of a male Cardigan character: brave yet reserved, gentle yet firm, loyal yet independent, intelligent yet straightforward, and much given to perform odd antics in order to garner an approving smile from his humans.
I remember the many people who were impressed by him, loved him and regarded him as exceptionally unique among all the unique Corgis and dogs of the world, and how he loved them back in his simple and unassuming way.
I remember how strong and vibrant he was for more than ten years, and how bravely yet ultimately futilely he struggled to overcome his hurt back and the growing fibrosarcoma in his side over the course of the last year.
I remember how I sat crying beside him on the floor of the veterinarian’s office as his eyes closed and he drifted away into the final night.
In moments like this, I would like to be able to believe that the storm that raged on that dark day carried him to a place beyond the rain, to again run forever healthy and young beyond the skies in the company of my loved ones who have gone before him.
But all I do know for certain is that Ripa has passed into memory.
And as long as he is remembered, he is not truly gone.
Jouni Pohjola
Piikkiö, Finland
September 21, 2011
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Page added September 21, 2011 |