Rufus Thomas
Minnie Pearl and Rufus Thomas
We had to put down our beloved Rufus Thomas, an original Arkansas Barking Dog, on Monday.
We had eleven summers with him across Arkansas, New Jersey, and Ohio.
He leaves behind his sister, and littermate, Minnie Pearl, his adopted sister, Martha Stewart, and his humans, Nathan, Jerusalem, Wylie, Eli, Connor, Miles, and Charlotte. He also leaves behind his Uncle Joshua, who found him and his many sisters in a thicket down the road and rescued them all, along with his momma.
At age eleven (or seventy-seven if the math is to be believed), he had developed a cancer too aggressive and awkwardly placed to treat. We let him Rufus until he could Rufus no longer. And then Nathan, Minnie Pearl, and I took him to the sweet young vet in town, and we said our goodbyes as he drifted into the great blue yonder.
In the days since, and honestly, in the days leading up, I have cried buckets and rivers and solo cups’ worth of tears.
I cry for the goodbye I had to say to Rufus, and for the loss of him in our life. I cry for the days he won’t get to spend barking from his perch on the bench on the back deck, over the fence, driving us all to yell, RUFUS HUSH! And I cry for the loss of any hope he still had of catching just one more chicken. I cry for the squishy puppy with too much skin and big brown eyes who chewed up everything and who curled into a ball to sleep no matter his age. I cry because he was him, and now he is gone.
But mostly I cry for Minnie Pearl, who has never been away from him for more than a couple of hours until now.
I cry for her broken heart. For being left to live without him. For remaining behind.
I cry because I know.
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