Day 20: Dear Simon
By Cal Orey
Dear Simon,
I've been trying to telepathically communicate with you. At times I feel we are connecting, other times not so much. With tears streaming down my cheeks I never ever thought the day would come. I thought you were immortal. Well, admit it. You were the healthiest, strongest canine companion I've ever enjoyed in my life. There are dozens of photos of you at your happiest moments, year after year, 12 years plus one half.
We did have an amazing life together, though, yes? Back in the day of snow at Lake Tahoe, you loved running up and down the berms. Remember when we'd walk to the campground during off season in autumn and spring. You'd jump over the huge pine tree logs again and again. Not to forget taking you to the Lake. I know, the water was too cold for you to go swimming...but you loved the sand, sun, and looking out at the water and Canada geese. Ah, the winter nights under the full moon, you walked with me on the fresh snow after visiting your best dog friend. It was bliss while we were in the hot tub and you and "Rat Boy" played non stop outdoors and indoors. I can still see your beautiful mile.
And the book signings you escorted me to were fun, yeah? As a puppy in Carson City' Borders you were so cute and as an adult at Chico's Barnes and Noble--I was so proud of you. You worked the crowd and acted like a therapy dog. Don't forget we ordered a third bed for you in the hotel...but you snuggled and slept with me as you did for more than a decade. Not to forget you kept me company day and night, on errands, writing books, photo shoots, and my bedmate, my soulmate with paws. We got each other.
I know you loved your canine pals--Zorro, your Rat Terrier with Type-A energy; and Seth, my Brittany pup whom you raised. He loved you more than you know. You sensed when his health took a turn for the worse just as my Aussie and Siamese noted you were not yourself. I sense they miss you, especially Skye, whom you helped socialize with strangers. He is trying to behave like you and be strong for me. We miss you Simon. You are in every room: Posters of us at bookstores, in my magazine articles, books, plaques, and dog bones. Your fave comforter is on the loveseat. I want to smell your scent and will not wash it.
In the past months I knew you were slowing down but as we age it happens. When I returned from the out of country trip, it was evident. You weren't yourself. How it hurt me to put the pieces together of you staring at walls, getting disoriented behind chairs, unable to do your business, and forgetting all of your commands--not knowing who we were.
It was difficult for me to face the facts that your were slipping away. But I knew on Friday, October 23rd when all of the classic signs came together. You told us--all of the people who adored you--it was time. "I'm tired. I don't like the way my mind is not clear. I'm anxious. I'm scared. I'm confused. I want to go where it's safe and peaceful--the way we were."
So, my boy, my dear bird dog, I let you go. I love you Simon. Hugs and kisses. We had a good, long life together. My thoughts are with you day and night. Till we meet again, Simon Dog.
Dear Simon,
I've been trying to telepathically communicate with you. At times I feel we are connecting, other times not so much. With tears streaming down my cheeks I never ever thought the day would come. I thought you were immortal. Well, admit it. You were the healthiest, strongest canine companion I've ever enjoyed in my life. There are dozens of photos of you at your happiest moments, year after year, 12 years plus one half.
We did have an amazing life together, though, yes? Back in the day of snow at Lake Tahoe, you loved running up and down the berms. Remember when we'd walk to the campground during off season in autumn and spring. You'd jump over the huge pine tree logs again and again. Not to forget taking you to the Lake. I know, the water was too cold for you to go swimming...but you loved the sand, sun, and looking out at the water and Canada geese. Ah, the winter nights under the full moon, you walked with me on the fresh snow after visiting your best dog friend. It was bliss while we were in the hot tub and you and "Rat Boy" played non stop outdoors and indoors. I can still see your beautiful mile.
And the book signings you escorted me to were fun, yeah? As a puppy in Carson City' Borders you were so cute and as an adult at Chico's Barnes and Noble--I was so proud of you. You worked the crowd and acted like a therapy dog. Don't forget we ordered a third bed for you in the hotel...but you snuggled and slept with me as you did for more than a decade. Not to forget you kept me company day and night, on errands, writing books, photo shoots, and my bedmate, my soulmate with paws. We got each other.
I know you loved your canine pals--Zorro, your Rat Terrier with Type-A energy; and Seth, my Brittany pup whom you raised. He loved you more than you know. You sensed when his health took a turn for the worse just as my Aussie and Siamese noted you were not yourself. I sense they miss you, especially Skye, whom you helped socialize with strangers. He is trying to behave like you and be strong for me. We miss you Simon. You are in every room: Posters of us at bookstores, in my magazine articles, books, plaques, and dog bones. Your fave comforter is on the loveseat. I want to smell your scent and will not wash it.
In the past months I knew you were slowing down but as we age it happens. When I returned from the out of country trip, it was evident. You weren't yourself. How it hurt me to put the pieces together of you staring at walls, getting disoriented behind chairs, unable to do your business, and forgetting all of your commands--not knowing who we were.
It was difficult for me to face the facts that your were slipping away. But I knew on Friday, October 23rd when all of the classic signs came together. You told us--all of the people who adored you--it was time. "I'm tired. I don't like the way my mind is not clear. I'm anxious. I'm scared. I'm confused. I want to go where it's safe and peaceful--the way we were."
So, my boy, my dear bird dog, I let you go. I love you Simon. Hugs and kisses. We had a good, long life together. My thoughts are with you day and night. Till we meet again, Simon Dog.
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