Saturday, January 30, 2010

Another death in the neighborhood....

A couple years ago we started going to the lakes for the summer.  The last two years we have had winter stays in Minnesota, as well. 

One time, we came back to a next-door neighbor who had a brain tumor.  He died a week later.  We kept watch and cared for his widow, a dear, confused lady.  The next time we came back home, she died a few days later, before we had a chance to reconnect with her.  I remember being very concerned because I hadn't seen her.  I went next door and knocked but there was no answer.  I found out later that she had been living in a retirement home the last few months and her funeral was less than a week after we got back. I heard this from another neighbor the day after her funeral.

So fast-forward to this present year.  I have renewed my morning walks with Belle and, although we stop at her "boyfriend's" house every day, he doesn't run to the fence for a kiss, as usual.  Yesterday, I stopped to talk with the kids who were delivering groceries for their aging mom...I explained who I was and asked about their dog.  I was told that his kidneys had failed and she had to 'put him down'.  We were so sad that I didn't think it was very polite to ask the dog's name.  We always referred to him as Belle's boyfriend.

She was always excited to go there and they went through the peeing ritual, as close to the fence as possible.  The aging male labrador would get on his hind legs on the corner of the fence, then she would look, pleadingly, up at me for a lift.  I would lift her up and she would turn her head away like she was tolerating his sloppy lick on the neck but not enjoying it, and then want down.  I know she enjoyed it.  I know she misses him.  Everyday we cross the road, we go to the fence and she looks for him.  Eventually, she won't.  She may even find a new boyfriend.

He was so faithful, always waiting.  She knows he is gone.  Maybe she understands english better than we know.  Maybe she has an inner instinct that tells her after a week, he is history.  Maybe she didn't care as much as I thought;  I hear that we try to give human characteristics to our pets.  However, I believe she is being brave, perhaps she cries in her pillowed bed, but I know that pets make us feel good...and I think she is being brave for me.

I love you, Belle, and he did too!  We didn't know his name, but he was a neighbor, created by God, and we miss him.