willie dog

Willie was a honey-coloured cockapoo dog. Sweet and trusting, happy and curious (look at his expression, head tilted to one side, wondering what my brother Ted was doing), zany and excited to be alive, was Willie dog.

I was asking Margaret, the other night, how old Willie was. As far back as we could remember, Willie was bounding about the Vancouver Island homes of Ted, and his late wife Joanne. Like a pinball, Willie would run zig zag across the yard when he spotted his humans returning. Inside the house, Willie was a lap dog, but only if he really knew you well.

He loved car rides, he loved to romp and grab something with his mouth for a good shake. An animal loves us with few conditions. Food and water, exercise is an add on option, depending on the breed. They are as much a part of your family as any other, sometimes (truth be told) we feel more warmly toward our fur-bearing companions than we do our slightly less hairy relatives.

The picture, above, was taken when the first of this winter's snows fell, unexpectedly. Though Willie's body was full of cancer, he ran about the yard, crazy as always, and enjoyed himself. He lived almost a year longer than the vets said he would. Ted emailed me this morning to say he had ended Willie's tough time.

Willie lived a long life. He was loved alot.

Margaret, who just came in the door, says Willie was "...a darling..." She said this with real affection. My brother Ted and his children have had many losses to suffer through these last few years. They will weep for Willie, I'm sure. And their tears will not be wasted.

Tears and grief are the price we pay for the opening of our hearts. Willie, like all our loved ones, was a precious gift, and like all our loved ones, the gift is impermanent. Willie goes to join the others on their mysterious journey. Joanne will be delighted to see him (if this is what happens out there in the midnight beyond...).

We add him to the list of those we will miss.
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