So sorry for your loss. Glad you were able to express yourself so
eloquently. May help you as you grieve.
-----Original Message-----
From: olympus-owner@xxxxxxxxxx [mailto:olympus-owner@xxxxxxxxxx] On
Behalf Of Marc Lawrence
Sent: Monday, November 20, 2006 12:43 AM
To: olympus@xxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [OM] Just a dog (OT)
I lost my dog, Monty, yesterday to complications arising from ultimately
from nasal adenocarcinoma. Yes, I know this it OT, though I beg your
patience (and understand if you'd prefer the DELETE key), as Monty, my
dog, was also the being I photographed more than any other, with Maggie,
my other dog, coming in second.
Monty was a good dog, but....
...he was also, in my one-eyed mind, the greatest dog that ever lived; a
giant; a canine archetype crashing across my universe; a jester of
galactic renown; a King of Kings; a mental gymnast and gymnastic
mentalist bar none...but he was also, in the less hyperbolic parts of my
brain, and in the part of me that understands and knows happiness, just
exactly what everyone can be fortunate enough to have in their lives: a
good dog.
Someone called a past dog in their lives a "heart dog", and that we may
have but one "heart-dog" - that archetype to which others, just as much
loved, provide detail and decoration and finetuning and enhancement, all
formed out of the "heart-dog"'s mould even while carving their own
individual path through our mind's sky. Peter has never owned, or been
owned by, a dog before and it goes without saying that Monty is his. For
me, who has owned a dog before (Goldie, the family dog), there are some
elements of guilt towards that former family pet, because I *know* to my
core that Monty was and is my "heart-dog" too.
He could glide with an inspiring grace across a field, head lifted high,
highstepping the aire, straight into a tree (and then look astounded and
offended that the tree did not have the intelligence nor good grace to
move out of his way). He was the dog that bit other dogs, and yet would
allow a strange Jack Russell Terrier to raise itself on its backlegs,
front legs on Monty's shoulder, to sniff his face. He was embarrassed by
hugs and yet desired to be directly under your feet at every unexpected
opportunity. He was a hard dog to live with at times, especially while
out in public amongst houndish strangers...and yet nothing rewarding is
easy, and my struggles, arguments, placations, comforts and mind-melds
with him showed me my good and my bad qualities, as I saw his reflected
in mine, and for that I must be grateful, if not always having wanted to
look into that reflection. He trusted me - that is hard for me to be
grateful for, for I rarely felt I deserved that trust
- and that was nectar even when undeserved. He was never anything I
expected, but was always something that I never knew I needed.
He was clown, fool, lord, knight, fighter, mad eejit, sharp, blunt,
roar, laughter, howl, slapstick, melodrama, earthy, pungent, claw,
tooth, clench, buffoon, siege, rescue, child, wise, wiseguy, roar,
gentle, giant, saved, salve, heart, sole, bonded, found, clever,
stellar, galumphing, gravitas, embrace, brazier, burning, warming,
flaming, shining, crazy, diamond...
...friend.
...and I miss him, and now, away from his heat; having touched my
forehead to his so-cold forehead, trying to meld with a mind no longer
there; shaped my palms about those familiar but so- very-cold curves of
his anvilled skull, suede ears, and sweepingly strong but still flank;
as he lay on the stainless steel bench, and I covered his now-doused
eyes with a hospital blanket...I feel crumpled to dust.
Shine on, Monty.
To at least give you all something photographic, here is a very small
sample of photos - three of Monty, three of Maggie, and one of them both
"unposing" for the camera (all of which my heavily compartmentalised and
bottled-up mind is happy to take any criticism for):
http://www.parknmeter.com/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=11
Good boy, Monts! Good boy!
Cheers,
Marc
Sydney, Oz
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