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Page added November 27, 2011 |
Ó oíche go hoíche, mo thuras,
na scéalta nach mbeidh a choích'
Roma Baran & Enya
"Book Of Days"
Tikru came to us on the eve of the dark days: he had been with us for only about two months when my lovemate Sanna was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. His presence brought a little light into those shadows.
Tikru left me in the wake of a dark time, less than two months after the year-long illness and eventual death of his uncle Ripa. He left another cold and dreary void in my heart.
Of all my Corgis Tikru was closest to the original working type, a rugged little cattle dog. Strong-willed, single-minded and unassuming — those are the words that perhaps sum up Tikru's character best. He was never the one for the spotlight but seemed content with being a member of a dog pack that at its heights numbered five. Through no fault of his own, he ended up always being the second-best, the odd one out.
Tikru, like all dogs, deserved more of course. And we did have some great moments together: hiking in the Norvegian fjells on the trip where he became a Swedish Champion, playing soccer with his belowed ball on the yard of Koivurinne in Hankalmi... But I always thought I'd have time to give him more attention than he was getting when the older dogs were still around.
He was only just a little over 8 years old when a sudden and catastrophic discus prolapsis left his rear end completely paralyzed with no signs and no hope of recovery.
When he licked my tears away one final time on the night of the full November moon, lay down on the veterinarian's table and died, I mourned not only all of things we had and would never have again but also all of the things we should have had but were denied from by the heartless universe much given to entropy and shattering of dreams.
Jouni Pohjola
Piikkiö, Finland
November 27, 2011
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Page added November 27, 2011 |