“The decision to euthanize a beloved dog is always heartbreaking. HOWEVER, THE DAYS AND WEEKS THAT FOLLOW CAN BE EVEN TOUGHER TO BEAR. FEELINGS OF EMPTINESS AND GUILT CREEP THROUGH THE HOUSE, SILENT RE-
MINDERS OF LIFE’S FLEETING FRAGILITY. Only the responsibilities of daily life seem to ease the pain.”
caught completely off-guard. Tear- fully, I managed to utter the word, “Goodbye.” It’s been said that time heals all wounds, and I suppose it’s true. In the days that followed Kurre’s pass- ing, the bouts of sadness were offset by memories of her extraordinary life. Kurre was smart, even for an Irish Water Spaniel. Though her in- telligence was never measured by an Obedience or Agility score, she possessed a kind of “supernatural” sensibility that wasn’t always easy to understand. Kurre was hyperaware of everything and everyone. Nothing and no one escaped her attention. (I swear she could see things that are invisible to mere mortals.) Kurre also possessed a boundless energy that could only be contained by her crate. She had two speeds: “on” and “crate.” Only when her limbs began to fail was she able to relax unincarcerated. In her prime, she could easily catch a ball in midair while doing a backflip. I was in awe of her. Kurre was a beautiful representative of her breed too. Though never a show dog, she was solidly made. Her pro- portions and strength of construc- tion were a lesson in canine anatomy, and her balance was the kind that no
handler can assemble. When viewed from any angle, Kurre didn’t disap- point. She possessed that elusive quality called “type,” without the trappings of superfluous glamour. The sight of her standing in the back- yard was a privilege that always took my breath away, especially when she turned her head to look in my direc- tion. It was then that I could appre- ciate her beautiful expression. The directness of her gaze held me spell- bound. And even as her eyes grew tired and gray, the light behind them never failed. It only flickered. That is, it flickered until it was extinguished. The decision to euthanize a beloved dog is always heartbreaking. How- ever, the days and weeks that follow can be even tougher to bear. Feelings of emptiness and guilt creep through the house, silent reminders of life’s fleeting fragility. Only the responsi- bilities of daily life seem to ease the pain. For breeders of purebred dogs, this means caring for the departed dog’s sons and daughters, and grand- sons and granddaughters. When Kurre passed, I wanted to let her puppies’ people know in a way that would celebrate her life, not focus on her death. So, when I posted a photo in memoriam on Facebook, it was
accompanied by an anonymous Irish poem that perfectly characterizes Kurre’s wild Irish spirit. (Inciden- tally, if you Google the words “Irish,” “death” and “poem,” be prepared to sift through 17.6million funeral bless- ings.) The piece I selected begins, “A strange blend of shyness, of pride and conceit, and stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.” That was Kurre. I posted the memorial on Saint Pat- rick’s Day, and the strangest thing happened. No sooner had I shared the photo and poem than the first mes- sage of condolence appeared, followed quickly by another, and then another and another. The trickle of messages soon became a deluge of kindness, understanding and love from friends and family far and wide. From half- way around the world, messages were sent by dog people whom I’ve never met. The outpouring of compassion caught me completely offguard, re- minding me that I was not alone in my grief. Each reply helped me to heal. In fact, the response to Kurre’s passing offered proof that people are genuinely kind, and social media can have a surprisingly positive affect on the world.
54 • T op N otch T oys , A pril 2019
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