Saying Goodbye

This day has been more difficult than we could ever imagine. We said goodbye to Bob dog this morning and have been overcome with grief. We've been a three-some for 14 1/2 years. Bob has gone with us everywhere we have gone, except to work. Every time we've gotten in the car, he has too, even these past 6 months when he needed a cushion so the step up into the car was easier, he still wanted to go when we were going. He would eat dinner when we would eat. He would sit in the family room with us in the evenings as I would blip and Mr. Fun would give the TV remote a workout. This has been a tear-filled day. I'll be writing more about Bob dog in the next few days. But not right now. This photo was taken in the "pet" section of Borders Books this evening after we had dinner out for "date night." Thanks for your comforting comments.

I'm including one of Mr. Fun's favorite poems by a favorite poet:

The House Dog's Grave

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you,
If you dream a moment,
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no,
All the nights through I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read,
And I fear often grieving for me,
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.

No, dears, that's too much hope:
You are not so well cared for as I have been.
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided...
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

by Robinson Jeffers (1887-1962)


Good night from Southern California.
Rosie & Mr. Fun, aka Carol

P.S. I also said goodbye to students today as they came into the Writing Center to get their last graded essay from me. When my student, who is a captain in the local fire department, reached across the desk I was sitting at and hugged me and thanked me for all he had learned, it was all I could do to hold back my tears.