It's been a month and more since I opened this blog with one post. I didn't feel I had anything to blog...not sure what's relevant.
As I walked the house this morning, I realized that this is the first time in 20 years I have not roamed my house with a dog. Hawkeye, companion of nearly 15 years, died peacefully outside my office window on Sunday night. We knew it was time for him to go. Before Sarah and I left for Lakeside, I knelt down by him. Loved him, talked to him, held him, and gave him permission to stop fighting for his life. His cancer had taken over more completely and Brook was planning to take him to the vet while we were gone. After I was with Hawk for about 10 minutes, Sarah came downstairs and joined the love fest. She talked to him and thanked him for loving her even when she was little and pulled on him. Then Brook joined us, and it was tearful and beautiful. We left shortly after that and headed north.
Brook left me a voicemail message that night after 10:00 saying to call him as soon as I got the message. He had put Hawk in the back yard later on Sunday. He'd seen him laying under the tree, and then the hammock. He called for him to come in and got nothing. He kept calling, then walked out back. Hawkeye was where he often was, under the crab apple tree outside my office window. His hermangiosarcoma had ruptured, though there wasn't blood to suggest he'd bled out from that. He had simply expired, lying in a safe spot as he often did. I hope he was watching the squirrels run the yard as he passed, that there were the smells of barbeque and other tempting delights in the air, and that he drifted off peacefully to run with Rascal, Kylie, Murphy, Rocky, and Grandma Joyce. Brook took him down to Chillicothe very early Monday morning and buried him on the hill under two redbud trees, next to Rocky. We'll plan a trip soon so that Sarah and I can formally say goodbye.
As I write, my tears of sadness and joy are finally falling. I said to Sarah yesterday that I really hadn't grieved for him yet. I know he's "just" a dog, but he was family. I can still see him sitting in the cage at Animal Fair Pet Center when I took a walk break from Michael's Market. He was playing coy, but I think he could tell I was drawn to him. He sat sideways as he often did, kind of looking slightly over his shoulder at me. I remember the converation with Brook on the phone--"The last thing we need is another dog." But he drove over anyway, in our one-ton dump truck, dragging the hay trailer, with Rascal and Kylie in tow, headed to Chillicothe for a day of hay-making and hay-haulig. Hawkeye the 4-6 month old left with the three of them and began his life I celebrate today. A lover, not a fighter. Steady and faithful. Tolerant of children of all ages to the end. English Setter, mom's family dog growing up, and named for a cousin who died too young. Irreplacable and much loved.
Thank you God for this dog who enriched my life, and Brook's life, and Sarah's life, and Weo's life. Thank you for tears of joy and sorrow. Thank you for memories that point to yesterday and to tomorrow. And thank you for cats like Charlotte who does her best dog imitation while she wonders what happened to her buddy. Perhaps someday she will get another buddy, but for now, we'll wait.
