Thursday, February 16, 2012
My naughty little Angel
The bunny is simply a hellion, always getting into trouble and driving his poor mother to distraction. Even when Dad takes him aside, he can't remember to change his ways.
But it's a children's book, and so all comes out well in the end. So much so, that the bunny is a "naughty little angel". In a sense, the book is a lesson on Grace.
Little One-Eyed Dog was a hellion, who drove the lovely and long suffering Mrs. Borepatch to distraction. She was a rescue dog, grown when we got her. By "we" I mean "everyone but me": I met her when I came home from work one day, and there was this little dog playing in our yard. Did one of the neighbors' dogs get out I asked. And suddenly nobody would make eye contact. I see how it is, I thought. And so I went to make friends with out new pet.
She bit me.
She was tough, which is what she'd needed to survive on the mean streets of San Juan. Her eye had been infected when she was forwarded to the Shelter, and they couldn't save it. It didn't slow her down. A little dog, she was fast and quick, and loved to run for the joy of running - we called her "turbo dog" when she did that, and it was simply fun watching her have the fun of reaching Mach 2.
But she was a sweetheart, too - quite a lap dog who quickly took a shine to me above all others. I've always taken to big dogs, but she knew how to let the Angel of her Better Nature shine. Sometimes.
You see, she never entirely lost her old survival instincts. She'd hoard food, hiding it from everyone. She'd sneak off and pee in corners, marking her territory - even after bringing her in from a walk. Sneaky. It was a good thing that she was so cute.
But nothing lasts forever, especially pets. The cancer came on quick, and hard: ten days after taking her to the vet, we were back to end her suffering. Even two days before she'd pranced as I went to let her outside; the night later she was refusing water.
We buried her in the back yard where she so liked to go into Turbo Dog mode, and the boys impressed me by helping to dig her grave. We covered it with a slab of marble that used to be a coffee table top, but had broken in two on the move to Camp Borepatch. It's a nice marker.
We'll miss our Naughty Little Angel, Little One-Eyed Dog.