Loss of a pet

I've never had a pet.  Too much responsibility!  My brother John had a dog called Theseus, acquired through animal rescue.  He was part collie and I'm not sure what else. (Mongrels make the best pets!)

Theseus was very smart.  He recognized several words, including "stick." Hearing that word would always make him excited, because it meant they'd be taking him outdoors to play with the stick! ("Walk" had a similar effect on him.) It was tempting to say "Stick!" to him just to see him get excited, like Pavlov ringing the bell to make the dog drool.

Eventually, Theseus got old and they put him down.  I suppose that saying goodbye to a pet is one of the ways we learn to say goodbye to a relative.

In one of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books there's a wonderful chapter called "Growing Up," about Jack the family dog, who'd accompanied them on all their travels, walking under the wagon in the shade.  But now, as the family prepared their last journey, he was too old for more walking.  Laura got thinking about how Jack had always been around to protect her, but now she'd have to take care of herself. (That's a Garth Williams illustration at the top.)

They were going to carry him inside the wagon, but he saw the familiar preparations and must have sensed his time was over, and one morning he was dead.  After burying Jack, Laura's father told her, "Good dogs have their reward."

I remember this CBC radio comedy show did a skit about someone arranging a funeral for his dog Fluffo.  The funeral arranger said, "And then there's the bargain special--we put Fluffo in a sack and throw him in the Fraser River!" He also suggested an epitaph, like "He ain't around, he's in the ground."