My good dog Tweed died today. He got a swift and ugly cancer, and he was hurting, so I let him go.
I have no words of eloquence for my good dog. He was a simple dog, and so I mourn his loss simply and without fanfare. He was honest. When he had an opinion, he shared it. When he had a feeling, he let it be known. And when it was his time to die, he asked me to let him go.
I know what loss is – I feel it keenly now. I know what luck is, because I was lucky that he was my dog for *exactly* 15 years. I know what love is, because we shared love deeply. We grew into one another, and although his body is gone, we will never be apart.
Thank you to all my friends at the Regionals that I could not participate in, who shed a tear and hugged him goodbye, because he inspired that kind of fondness in people who were not his own. Thank you to Auntie Heather, for taking care of the bits that I could not. Thank you to Auntie Kim for the roast chicken that was the last food he ate. And thank you to Dr. Jeff Bowra, for releasing from his painful body.
Thank you Tweed, for being part of my very soul.
Valar morghulis. Dogs too. Even mine.
Tweed May 6th 2000 – June 8th 2015.