(no subject)
Jessie:
By now you've gotten the news; I'm so, so sorry. We're all pretty devastated, but you've got an uncontested license to be torn all to hell. Georgie was one of the reasons I actually broke my 15-year stint as an occupational nomad, and actually being at the accident was the kind of thing I don't ever want to repeat.
I wanted you to know that it's much, *much* worse for us than it was for Georgie, though. I've had a knife run though my foot, I've cut through the meat of my finger down to the bone, I've been hit in the head with a station wagon, my back has enough scars to look like Verdun just before Armistice day, and I've shattered the last bone in my left index finger into five separate pieces while ripping through the nail, so I've got no doubt that Georgie's nerves weren't letting any signals into her brain. As she lay on the ground, she had the sort of look I get on my face when I feel a burp coming on - "hold that thought, I'll be with you in a second." Judy and I petted her and told her it was alright, which is stupid but it's the only thing you can say then, and two minutes later she exhaled out of her body.
Oh, crap, I'm touch typing because I can't see, but the point is that Georgie was okay.
Later on Judy was blaming herself for having let Georgie off her leash, saying it was her fault, but that's ridiculous - you can't watch out for someone 24 hours a day. This was a horrible, terrible thing, but there's nobody we can blame, and no way to fix it. It's pure random, crushing chance, but the thing that wasn't random chance is the life Georgie had for 10 years. I honestly don't think any city dog ever had a better life
- she lived with a family that clearly adored her, she had a farm she could play at, full of festering things to roll in, and she got to be with her extended family in the office instead of waiting for her humans to come back 9 hours a day, five days a week. Dogs are pack animals, and she had a whole pack of people to play with anytime she wanted to. Even if the stupid bald-headed human fed her eye-watering food (and not enough of it), I think she knew she was living in the best of all possible dog worlds.
Georgie deserved to have more of that, and you deserved to have more of Georgie, but you and your family gave her a life and a home that was far better than any practical animal, four-or two-legged, could reasonably expect.
I don't believe in an afterlife, but I do fervently believe that we carry around in our heads copies of the people we care about. They're all there, whether we want them or not, but Georgie's one of the ones worth having. It sounds corny to say that they're not gone until everyone they touched is gone, but, dammit, it's true.
I know this won't really make you feel any better; nothing probably will, for a while. Lean on your friends to help when things seem worthless and meaningless and awful, and remember to return the favor when it's your turn.
....
She was incredibly intelligent, wonderfully friendly, and happy. Even by dog standards, she was happy. We're trying to find her breeder so that when I come home for Christmas we can get another ratty who is just as individual, stubborn, and full of personality. I don't know if I'll ever meet another dog who tries so very hard to understand (and in a surprisingly human sense), but I'm not out to replace her. Georgie was one of a kind, and she always will be.
By now you've gotten the news; I'm so, so sorry. We're all pretty devastated, but you've got an uncontested license to be torn all to hell. Georgie was one of the reasons I actually broke my 15-year stint as an occupational nomad, and actually being at the accident was the kind of thing I don't ever want to repeat.
I wanted you to know that it's much, *much* worse for us than it was for Georgie, though. I've had a knife run though my foot, I've cut through the meat of my finger down to the bone, I've been hit in the head with a station wagon, my back has enough scars to look like Verdun just before Armistice day, and I've shattered the last bone in my left index finger into five separate pieces while ripping through the nail, so I've got no doubt that Georgie's nerves weren't letting any signals into her brain. As she lay on the ground, she had the sort of look I get on my face when I feel a burp coming on - "hold that thought, I'll be with you in a second." Judy and I petted her and told her it was alright, which is stupid but it's the only thing you can say then, and two minutes later she exhaled out of her body.
Oh, crap, I'm touch typing because I can't see, but the point is that Georgie was okay.
Later on Judy was blaming herself for having let Georgie off her leash, saying it was her fault, but that's ridiculous - you can't watch out for someone 24 hours a day. This was a horrible, terrible thing, but there's nobody we can blame, and no way to fix it. It's pure random, crushing chance, but the thing that wasn't random chance is the life Georgie had for 10 years. I honestly don't think any city dog ever had a better life
- she lived with a family that clearly adored her, she had a farm she could play at, full of festering things to roll in, and she got to be with her extended family in the office instead of waiting for her humans to come back 9 hours a day, five days a week. Dogs are pack animals, and she had a whole pack of people to play with anytime she wanted to. Even if the stupid bald-headed human fed her eye-watering food (and not enough of it), I think she knew she was living in the best of all possible dog worlds.
Georgie deserved to have more of that, and you deserved to have more of Georgie, but you and your family gave her a life and a home that was far better than any practical animal, four-or two-legged, could reasonably expect.
I don't believe in an afterlife, but I do fervently believe that we carry around in our heads copies of the people we care about. They're all there, whether we want them or not, but Georgie's one of the ones worth having. It sounds corny to say that they're not gone until everyone they touched is gone, but, dammit, it's true.
I know this won't really make you feel any better; nothing probably will, for a while. Lean on your friends to help when things seem worthless and meaningless and awful, and remember to return the favor when it's your turn.
....
She was incredibly intelligent, wonderfully friendly, and happy. Even by dog standards, she was happy. We're trying to find her breeder so that when I come home for Christmas we can get another ratty who is just as individual, stubborn, and full of personality. I don't know if I'll ever meet another dog who tries so very hard to understand (and in a surprisingly human sense), but I'm not out to replace her. Georgie was one of a kind, and she always will be.