Friday, January 31, 2014

1300 miles and a World Age

1982, Jack in the snow.  And who was that devilishly handsome young man?

Yesterday, Wolfgang in the snow.  Alas, the devilishly handsome young man is no more.

Jack was a special dog, who occupies a special place in my memory.  I was sad when Little One-Eyed Dog died, but not like when Jack did.  That broke me up in a way, broke up so that it took twenty years to get another German Shepherd.  Jack and I shared a bond not often seen: he wasn't so much my dog, he was in a sense my four legged soul mate.  Wolfgang is not like that, which is a good thing.  It wouldn't be fair to expect him to be Jack, and I've found to my surprise that I don't expect him to be.

Alike, and yet not alike.

Today, it would have been nice to have Jack back, just for a short while.  But I wonder if Jack would have expected that devilishly handsome young man instead of me.  We're different, that youngster and me.

Like, and yet not alike.  In ways generally not agreeable to dwell upon.

Thanks to everyone who left a comment, to the ones who emailed, and even phoned (!).  Nobody's going into the ground, and so I don't need your shovels.  It's very nice indeed to have a group of friends like this, even if we are scattered to the four winds.  The wonder that is the Internet has made this possible, and the next time Mr. Gore is in town (he must have just been here for the snowstorm), I shall thank him for his most excellent Information Superhighway.

Would have been nice to have seen Jack today, though.  Some connections are not easy to replace.


Murphy's Law said...

I feel ya, man. Sometimes I go out on my back porch and call the roll of dogs no longer here. I do believe that I'll see them again though, as it just wouldn't be Heaven without all those good and faithful dogs that we've had in our lifetimes.

Dave H said...

But I wonder if Jack would have expected that devilishly handsome young man instead of me.

That's the great thing about pets. They really don't have any expectations of you. They're never disappointed in you for not being what you could have been, or what you used to be.

And because they don't understand English, you can't lie to them. Yet they still like you anyway.

Keads said...

My condolences on the loss of your friend.

WoFat said...

You know your dogs are going to die, but always dread the death of a wonderful friend. And seeing a dog run over in the street brings a desire to harm someone who let their friend go into the street. Dogs don't commit suicide, their owners let them die because they (the dogs owners) are stupid.

Goober said...

Kipling was right. With all the sorrows that we must face in life, why do we only set ourselves up for more by inviting a dog into our heart?

I posted about this last spring. Bird Dog is ten years old now and shes slowing down. Shes my "Jack." Best dog I ever had. Shed do anything, including sacrificing her own life to keep from breaking my heart, but shes going to anyway, whether she chooses to or not.

Cap'n Jan said...


We love all our dogs, but we love them all differently...

Fair Winds,

Cap'n Jan