A tribute to a small black dog

After his gall bladder failed, bringing about a surgery from which recovery was too challenging, my best little walking buddy, Shadow-dog, died peacefully in my arms last night. He leaves a few family members and friends to miss him. He was ten years old.

I am smiling through my tears as I type this. If anyone ever had a good life (except for the last week or so), our "Little Bear" did. Regular readers know I've written dozens of moodlings relating to adventures with Shadow. He was a good boy, and we walked a few thousand kilometers together, through all kinds of weather. He made a lot of friends, too, being as cute as he was.

"Shadow of Zorro" (his pedigree name) was a much-longed-for pet by our youngest, Jay, who did a lot of research into hypoallergenic dogs, found a breeder of Havanese puppies, and wore us down until we agreed to Shadow being Jay's 13th birthday present. We first laid eyes on him when he was a two-week-old "peanut" and brought him home when he was 8 weeks old. 

Shadow proved to be a perfect name for him as he was often underfoot, and hard to see against the black back-entry doormat, where he whined to go outside. We are grateful to Jay for bringing a happy and cuddly little spirit into our life, though he had his occasional curmudgeon days, too.

Shadow, February 3rd

My husband Lee initially didn't want anything to do with our dog, but it didn't take long for Shadow to work his way into Lee's heart. They spent many evenings together in their favourite easy chair, Shadow chewing on pizzle sticks Lee held for him while reading, and Lee became Shadow's #1. 

Shadow loved garden cucumbers and carrots, fresh snow, chasing his tail, making the bed, laying in sunbeams, tearing around on "Accidental Beach" beside the river, picking cheerios out of the air, dancing for his favourite peanut butter pumpkin treats, and walking dirt paths through the river valley. He loved greeting people at the door with a chew stick (though he didn't really expect or want them to accept his "welcome gift"). He made us laugh often.

He never understood the concept of fetch, and often had to be cajoled into going for walks. Once outside, he pranced along happily, often chasing -- to the end of his leash -- after magpies, squirrels, or jack rabbits. He liked barking at the letter carrier and any other dogs passing our large front window. He came and asked to be lifted up to sit between my knees during my daily morning meditation time. 

Special thanks to Dr. Ferrera, who so gently helped us with his final journey last night -- we certainly didn't expect to lose him so soon. The house is too quiet now. The remnants of his belongings and food will be donated to help low-income folks with their pets, and he will be remembered with a small spring ritual, his ashes spread near the backyard cucumber patch and along his best-sniffed coyote trails in our river valley. 

Happy trails to you, dear little Shadow-boy. I will miss being greeted at the door by your joyful barks and waggy tail, and feeling your soft, soft fur when I scratched you under the chin and around the ears. I will always remember you. Go in peace, little friend.

Two little dogs Part 2

For the past two weeks, Button has returned. My friend  went for an important surgery, so Button, who lived with us the last time Eleanor had a hospital stay, came to live with us once again. And much of what I wrote 5 years ago about Button's visit still makes me laugh, and still applies.

Our own little pooch, Shadow, has been a bit grumpier than usual, mainly because Button is able to jump up on our furniture and claim all his favourite spots (Shadow's short legs and our hardwood floors prevent him jumping that high). Of course, we have done our best to make things fair, ensuring that they both have comfy places to sit, Shadow with Lee, and Button with me.

But when it comes time for food, Shadow definitely has the upper hand. We set their bowls down on opposite sides of the kitchen, and Shadow gulps his down, right to the last tiny morsel. Button, on the other hand, takes her time, and leaves little bits behind. When she goes to check Shadow's empty bowl he moves over to clean up her leftovers! 

On walks, Button takes the lead, and Shadow, the older of the two, doddles along behind. He's never been one to be thrilled by walks, but if you take out her leash, Button bounces on her hind legs until she's harnessed up and ready to go. We've been fortunate that the weather has been good these past two weeks, so she's had some good walks.

The biggest difference we've noticed 5 years on is that both dogs sleep a lot more. And both snore!

Eleanor was discharged from the hospital yesterday, so our time with Button is coming to an end. I've enjoyed having her around -- Shadow adores Lee, watching his every move, and Button sticks with me. It's really nice to be a little dog's favourite person now and then. I'll miss her when she heads home.

Shadow's tenth winter

It's a marshmallow world out there, and Shadow-dog is not impressed. It's his tenth-eleventh winter already (well, he'll be ten years old at the end of January) and he's never liked snow much, being more like a cat than a dog in many ways. Cuddling is cool, cold weather is not!

Trying to get him to go for a winter walk can be a challenge, especially on grey days. And it's something of an effort, too -- first, to get him to come out of his cosy bed and make his way to the back door (liver treats sometimes help), then to get him into his boots, leash harness, and winter coat (over his cozy blue sweater). 

Then he stands there looking like he wishes he was back in the land of his ancestors (Havanese are descendants of the dogs that once belonged to Cuban royalty), and who can blame him? If I could teleport to a beach near Havana, I probably would.

Considering dog years, he's officially been a senior citizen for quite some time already, and honestly, there are days I can relate. His back end isn't as perky as it used to be when getting up off the couch, and I did something to my hip this morning while running to the bus. Ouch.

It's been quite a while since I've taken Shadow on a 5 km walk, as it's probably time to have mercy on his (probably) achy little body. But it's just not the same walking without him -- he's motivated me to get out and go for the past almost ten years. Suddenly my own walks are shorter to accommodate him. And would I go for a long walk without him? Only with a friend. Or maybe I need to start listening to Ebooks/podcasts to make solitary walks more interesting?

Shadow is less of a walking companion now, and more of a meditation buddy. He climbs out of bed to come snuggle with me every morning as I settle in for tea and prayer time. And perhaps that's actually more important at this stage... we're both getting older, moving toward the winter of life, Shadow and I. But we're still doing things together.