A Walk in the Countryside

Summer 2002






Episode Five, Jackson learns a valuable lesson

There he lays, a big black lump waiting for me to instigate some kind of action so he can happily join along. I sat down next to him on the side of the house where the morning sun was already taking the chill off the night's unfriendly passing. He pretended not to notice me but the swishing of that big black furry tail always gave him away.

MOTLEYFOOL: Good morning you great beast.
JACKSON: Hi Motley, what's up for today?
MOTLEYFOOL: Not much boy, I have to go into town for a bit then come back and wash the car. Wanna help?
JACKSON: Can I just watch?
MOTLEYFOOL: Sure you can fella.
JACKSON: What's that in your hand?
MOTLEYFOOL: This? Oh, something I wanted to show you. Since you can read and all.
JACKSON: Oooohhhh! Dog Romance novels? Hahaha.
MOTLEYFOOL: No Jackson, something much more somber. Remember when you mentioned that dogs have a hard time with concept of mortality? And that you also wanted me to tell you about my previous dog, Boris?
JACKSON: Yes Motley, I don't know why dogs don't understand the concept of mortality. I'm really sketchy on it myself. And yes, I'd like to hear about Boris too.
MOTLEYFOOL: Well perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone. Read this and maybe you'll understand.
JACKSON: Great, but you'll have to turn the pages for me.
MOTLEYFOOL: No problem, shall we begin?
JACKSON: Pro...ceed.

Letter to Susan
Pimlico, London SW1V 4EH
5-10-98
Dear Susie,
I sent you an e-mail this morning and this afternoon your letter arrived which is perfect timing as I was going to start in on a new letter anyway. Thanks for your kind words in your e-mail the other day, I think I needed it more than I thought.
The whole tragedy with Boris started almost two weeks ago when I gave him a bath. His “spring cleaning” if you will. This consisted of a brushing first to remove the excess hair from his winter coat and a bath right after. When I was finished we noticed that he seemed fatter than usual because now that a lot of that hair is gone you can see his real body. My father said it first. “ My God he’s fat” he said. I replied “Well we’re just going to have to give him less food.” As the week went on however, we began to realize that his pear-shape was quite unnatural and that something would have to be done. I put this off for a week to sit back and see what developed but also to attempt to deny to myself what I feared most. Then last Friday I took him to see our regular veterinarian Dr. Wilson. He immediately recognized that Boris had a very large growth in his upper abdominal and that something would have to be done fast. However, we would first have to determine if the condition was cancerous or not. If the results of the upcoming blood test came back negative or with no cancerous elements in his system then we could do a surgery to remove the growth and who knows? Maybe Boris could have another year or so of life. I would have to leave him there at the vets for the better part of the day in order for them to do the blood test. As I was about to leave I said “ I just want to be sure that you’re not going to put him to sleep without me being here.” I then realized that I was choking back tears as I spoke so I composed myself and exited the office rather quickly. Upon arriving home I informed my parents about the situation and added that I didn’t think he was going to make it, once again feeling my voice cracking. The plan as of now is to wait for the results of the blood test to see if there is an outside chance of saving him. He would stay at the vets for the night and I would come pick him up in the morning. Later that day when the vet called to give me the bad news about the growth being cancerous I changed my mind and looking at my watch I figured that I had enough time to dash to the vets office to bring Boris home. I didn’t want him to spend a night there alone if he didn’t have to. The plan now is to have Dr. Wilson come out to the house on Tuesday morning to put Boris to sleep so that he can have one last weekend at home with his family, living like a king for the last few days. But later that day Boris’ condition seemed to get worse and I knew that he couldn’t wait until Tuesday to be relieved of his pain. I went to work that afternoon knowing that I would have to make a bunch of phone calls the next morning to various vets to see if one of them could come out in the morning to put him to sleep. You see, Dr. Wilson couldn’t come out until the late afternoon on Saturday and as I needed to get to work shortly thereafter I really wanted to have a vet there in the early morning. After calling all the vets I knew with no success I fell back upon my old vet Dr. Wilson to come out around 2:00 pm.

Sometime around 1:00 or so I got a call from my then girlfriend Marilyn who wanted to know the latest news. I told her that Boris couldn’t wait until Tuesday and would have to be put down today(Saturday). She asked me if she could come over right away to see him one more time and would I mind if she stayed while he passed away? Of course I told her that she’d really be welcome during this difficult time and that Boris would really like to see her too. It’s about a forty minute drive for her from the coast so she arrived at the house around 1:45pm. When she walked in the front door Boris raised his head and looked at her as if beckoning her to come over to pet him. She said “I’m sorry Boris but I had to say hi to Motley's parents first”. She sat in the chair right next to him and stroked his muzzle for a while. I joined them and laid down on the floor next to him. He wasn’t in too much pain at the moment so he was enjoying all this adulation. I tried to think if there was something else I needed to do. I had risen early that morning to spend some time with Boris and to dig his grave in the backyard. It took me an hour or so but when I was finished I had a deep grave about 3ft by 5ft. I thought about this as I lay there with Boris on that afternoon. I looked over at Marilyn and said “You know, ten years from now I’d give anything to be here petting Boris one more time.” We stayed there with him for more than an hour only occasionally getting up to see if the vet was driving up. I was glad that we had that time with him and that Marilyn could join in on it.

The vet finally drove up almost an hour late but this time I was glad for his tardiness for it gave me a little extra time with my old friend. It was about 2:50pm and time to let Boris get on with his journey. I keep an olive colored blanket in the trunk of my car so I can lay on it as I do auto repair. I had spread this blanket out in front of the grave in the backyard so Boris could have a nice place to lay as he went to sleep. But there was one little problem: Boris was in the house and we needed him to be out back. He was having a devilishly difficult time in his attempts to stand up and he was much too heavy to carry out to the back. Would he stand up just one more time? With much coaxing and encouraging words he bravely made it to his feet and slowly ambled out to the blanket that I’d laid out for him. As he was making his way out to the backyard I was so proud of him because of the total and complete trust that he was placing in me. There was even a nobleness there that I can only hope one day to emulate. He always did have what Marilyn called “kind eyes” and never were they so kind as when he was making those final few steps. Finally he made it to the blanket and laid down right where we asked him to. I said to him “It’s been a long road Boris, you don’t have to walk anymore. You can rest now.” I held his head in my lap as the vet searched for a vein in his front leg to insert the needle. Dr Wilson was having a hard time finding one because Boris’ blood pressure was so low. He gave up on this leg after he couldn’t find the vein so he tried the leg that was directly under. During all this Boris is spilling more than a few drops of blood on the blanket. But nobody cared. The vet finally finds a vein and injects the chemical. A soft rain begins to fall and I remember apologizing to the vet about it. I’m now sobbing “Don’t forget us Boris, I’ll follow you one day.” My 80 year old father could no longer contain himself and was visibly sobbing as well. Marilyn was standing next to him and told Boris that when we all pass on that we would look for him. While all this was happening my mother was inside the house, watching from the kitchen window. Since she was physically unable to join us outside, she instead stood over the kitchen sink while watching Boris’ final moments.

After a minute or so I realized that he was gone. I said “I love you Boris. We’ll never forget you.” I kissed his muzzle and slowly let his head rest on the blanket. As I did the rain stopped as quickly as it had started. Dr. Wilson got up and was preparing to leave but before he did I reached up from where I was on the ground and shook his hand and thanked him for being such a great vet. He walked away and it was just the four of us and Boris. I then picked Boris up and lowered him into the grave that I had dug. Or at least I attempted to. Weighting around 95 pounds wasn’t the problem so much as he was as limp as jelly so his descent wasn’t as graceful as I would have liked. As a matter of fact I damn near dropped him completely but I apologized while weeping uncontrollably so I’m sure that he forgave me. My father had gone into the house a couple of minutes earlier to see how my mother was getting on so I left Marilyn alone with Boris for a few moments while I retrieved a few things from around the house to place in his grave. I found a couple of his old tennis balls that he used to fetch when he was younger as well as some of his favorite dog biscuits and to top it all off I cut a beautiful yellow rose from my rose garden. While I was gone Marilyn petted Boris and noticed how quiet it was with only the sound of the wind breaking the stillness. She noticed how the wind blew Boris’ fur to and fro. I’m glad she was there to keep him company. I didn’t want him to be alone for one second, even in death. I returned to the backyard and gave Marilyn one of the tennis balls and two of the biscuits so that we both could toss them in and send our beloved friend on his way. The tennis balls and biscuits were placed within easy reach of his front paws and I reached way down to place the yellow rose on his head and shoulders. I put on my gloves, picked up the shovel and started heaping shovelfuls of dirt on his hindquarters. I simply didn’t want to bury his head because I knew that once I did I would never see those kind eyes again. Eventually I had to though. Marilyn was now in the house, comiserating with my parents so I finished the burial, put away the blanket and the shovel and went inside.

I was none the worse for wear except for my left achilles tendon which I strained a little while digging the grave that morning. The loss really hadn’t hit me yet but I’d deal with it when it came. I arrived home that night around 10:30 or so, tired and emotionally drained. It had been a long day. In the aftermath of all this I have avoided detailed explanations to friends for fear that I would regress into my previous miserable state. This is the first time I’ve revisited the event and I think I’m all right. My brother James called this morning from Dallas, Texas to wish my mother a Happy Mothers Day and since I hadn’t spoken to him for two weeks he hadn’t heard the news. When I told him about Boris he gasped and then could barely speak for he was so choked up. I hadn’t realized how much my brothers loved that dog. As I write this it’s been eight days since he died and everywhere we turn there are reminders of his being there. An old tennis ball in the corner, a tuft of hair by the sofa, his rug in the toolshed. So why do we place so much importance on the life and death of a dog? Some would question the depth of importance of such a thing. But I don’t. I think the lives of animals are just as important as ours. I think that their lives are just as worthy of living and are as precious to them as ours. And I haven’t seen any solid empirical evidence to suggest otherwise.

There are only positive things to say about his life at this point. We had picked Boris up as a stray eleven years ago. He was found wandering in the nearby riverbed and I jumped at the opportunity to have a beautiful Golden Retriever. He could have starved, or been hit by a car but he wasn’t. He found the best home he could have possibly wished for. A veritable dog heaven where he could run and play to his hearts content. And there’s no doubt that we were blessed by his presence. He gave me so much happiness and joy that so heavily outweighted the grief of his final week of life. To say that it was worth it would be an understatement.
In other news (as if there could possibly be more) I did get your letter (many thanks) and in my next missive I’ll get around to addressing all of the cool stuff you were referring to especially the bit about coming over to England for your wedding and assorted Thom-foolery!! We’ll also be in touch via e-mail this week so keep smiling and I promise that my next letter will be much happier.
Love,
Motley
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JACKSON: (sigh)
MOTLEYFOOL: So, what do you think Jackson?
JACKSON: So that's what death is. Motley, I hate this, it was awful.
MOTLEYFOOL: I'm sorry boy, but you wanted to know. It seemed the only way to show you.
JACKSON: So you're saying that this isn't like The Loaves and the Fishes? It doesn't go on forever? We just...cease to be?
MOTLEYFOOL: I'm afraid so boy. The tell-tale signs are showing up even now. I have some grey hairs and I can see that you're getting a couple too.
JACKSON: So what this means is we have limited time? That this will all end and we'll be gone?
MOTLEYFOOL: Yes.
JACKSON: Well then, let's get going Motley. Please take me for a walk down by the riverbed. Let's get in as much fun as we can with the remaining time we have.
MOTLEYFOOL: Oh Jackson, I don't have time. I need to go do those things I told you about earlier. I'll take you for a walk tomorrow OK?
JACKSON: That's one day for you, seven days for me. That's a long time in dog years ya know.
MOTLEYFOOL: Got a point there, a week would be a long time for me to wait for something.
JACKSON: So we're going right?!!!!
MOTLEYFOOL: Very well, I suppose that other stuff can wait. But when we get back you gotta help me wash the car. Can you detail the rims?
JACKSON: I'd do anything for you Motley.
MOTLEYFOOL: I know fella, I know.

And off we went, him bounding ahead of me as if to say that we weren't going fast enough. These somber thoughts at least out of his mind for the moment. It doesn't take much to keep him happy, much the same as it was with Boris. They live such fleeting and temporary lives these creatures whose trust in us is infinite and whose faith in their guardians depends not merely on food and shelter, but on a kind word and soft hands.