That Dog Won’t Hunt Anymore

grandma
I was only three when my grandmother died so I can’t say we got to know each other very well.

Can’t say that I remember tons about her because I don’t but there are enough fragments and flashes for me to be comfortable saying I knew her.

Ask me what led me to make an unplanned visit to see my grandparents and I’ll shrug my shoulders and tell you I had too much time on my hands to do nothing and not enough to do something.

Press me on it and I might tell you about the dead dog I saw today because there is a connection between the two events.

That Dog Won’t Hunt Anymore

I didn’t know the dog was dead until I was almost on top of it.

At first I thought it was sleeping and figured it belonged to one of the men standing close to it.

It was only after one of them shook his head in disgust and made a comment about how the owner must be an awful person that I realized the dog wasn’t asleep.

“That dog won’t hunt anymore.”

Don’t ask me why I thought of it, because it is not the kind of expression I use often but it seemed appropriate.

Because I was in a rush I didn’t stop to ask if someone was going to make appropriate arrangements for the dog. I just hustled back to my car so I could move on to my next stop.

Five minutes or so later I began to wonder if I had made a mistake to not find out if the people who were standing around the dog intended to do something about it.

Had I not been on the freeway I would have gone back to find out but instead I gave myself a mental kick in the pants and wondered how that poor creature ended up dead on a sidewalk.

He/she didn’t look like they had bee on the streets. They looked like they belonged somewhere and to someone and that made me wonder what had happened to it.

It made me think about how we treat our pets and how we treat people.

Until Death Do Us Part

The cemetery is right off of the freeway and it since it shares the same exit as my next stop I gave into impulse and went to visit my grandparents.

When I arrived at Grandma’s resting place I sat down and apologized for not having been to visit in far too long.

I gave her a quick rundown on what is happened in the several years since I was last there and told her I felt a little silly talking out loud when it was clear that I was the only living being nearby.

After a brief pause to confirm she wasn’t going to respond I made my way to my grandfather and other grandmother and went through the same exercise.

Except this time I told grandpa that if he actually answered me we could come up with the greatest big brother prank ever and scare my sisters.

When he didn’t respond I told him I took that as a no and said I would give him time to reconsider and then I went to the car to get back to the real world.

Ten minutes later I was behind the wheel waiting for traffic to move when I started thinking about the dog again and told myself I shouldn’t feel guilty for not making sure it was taken care of.

In my house our dogs were always part of our family so it was hard not to think about it being mistreated and again I wondered if someone somewhere would mourn for it.

******

It also got me thinking about what mourning a dog means versus people.

I have had to say goodbye to more than one dog and it has never been easy but I can’t say we have ever used a pet cemetery.

When my pals were gone the vet took care of them and I was left with pictures, videos/Super 8 and memories.

It is still love, just a different sort of love than people love.
socratesThere are more important questions to think about than to wonder what the proper way to mourn an animal is but then again if I am to teach my children to be compassionate and thoughtful people shouldn’t I extend that to all creatures.

That dog deserved better than to be left on the sidewalk and I hope someone took care of him because I should have stopped to confirm.

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