the loss of a dog

Kavalier Big Hairy Deal, "Biggie"

05/04/2005 - 01/18/2016

My dogs. My dogs.

They are my companions, my compatriots, my confidants.
Biggie was my fourth Standard Schnauzer, my last one. He had a toe removed two years ago and then was neutered last year, both due to suspected cancer. All of my dogs have died of cancer, way too young.

So I suppose this was like a freight train that has been coming - you can feel the vibrations in the track, but it is so far off in the distance that you cannot yet see it. So you keep playing on the tracks, hoping you were mistaken until suddenly it is upon you. And you find yourself surprised by the suddenness of it. Even when you knew. You knew it was coming. Although you had no proof, you wanted to believe you were mistaken. That you could go on and on together. But the train came anyway, ahead of schedule, roaring upon you. You, with your deer-in-the-headlights look, amazed, that your fun on the tracks was over. Though you shouldn't have been - the foretelling was a long one; a silent vibration from a train miles away, but still coming. Unstoppable. Invisible, but real nonetheless. However, hope is a deep well, and so we play and laugh, skipping between the rails, in absolute and willful denial of the inevitable. Enjoying the moments while we can, because if we stop for just a second on the rail, balancing on one foot, there it is - the vibration - a little stronger. So we run again, the sun shining, our feet crunching on the gravel, dead grasses brushing at our ankles, and call to our friend, "come with me, let's run!". And you do, laughing. While the vibration under our feet grows ever stronger.