Eulogy to Our Neighborhood Dog
Clyde was a very good dog. In fact, he was the best dog around.
I met Clyde in 1993. We moved into Hunterwood, and the first person that made our acquaintance was Clyde. Not an unusual experience as many of you were also greeted first by this doggy-Welcome Wagon of one. Some of you even called my clinic after checking out his rabies tag to report this “stray dog”. And I said, “Yup, that’s Clyde. He’s the neighborhood dog. Don’t worry about him.”
Clyde died Tuesday night, January 6th. Actually, I put him to sleep after a lengthy battle with old age. His heart was strong to the end, but his body had all but petered out. He’d hobbled after the children down to the creek earlier in the day and had collapsed. No one knows how old he actually was. Some say 14 and some say as old as 18. The fact is, however, that Clyde led a most unusual and blessed life for a dog.
His true Hunterwood family moved away to Louisiana about 10 years ago and couldn’t take him with them as he was used to being loose and unfenced. That was ok with all of us in Hunterwood-- we’d already fallen in love with him. You see, you couldn’t ask for a better dog. He was one of a kind. Always ready for an adventure, he was eager to stroll with us, run with us and bike with us around the neighborhood, to the park, and even to town. Our neighborhood had already taken on the eagerness and goodwill of his personality. How could we give him up?
Clyde became our neighborhood blessing. We found he was a gentleman in all respects. He was loyal, kind and gentle, cheerful, and courageous. In fact, he represented a standard of good conduct that we will sorely miss. While we hustle and bustle in our human world and work hard for our necessities of food and shelter with considerable anxiety, Clyde showed us the beauty of a simpler and more creative life. The fact is, we did not own Clyde; he owned us. The smart devil went about enjoying every second of his life and never stressed about where the next meal would come or where he would sleep for the night. Don’t get me wrong. He worked hard. He spent considerable amount of time training each one of you as to when he wanted to be fed and where he wanted to sleep. However, he didn’t stress over the failures. If you, his human, went on vacation or if you moved, he didn’t love you any less, he just made other arrangements for food and shelter with your neighbor or the next person who moved into your home. In exchange, he played with your children, he protected your home, he partook in your festivities, he loved you, he delighted you, and pretty much left your cats and garbage alone. I know Clyde made a difference in a number of families, as no less than 15 of you called or came by the clinic to pay your respects in the short time since his death.
So, we come here today to say a last goodbye to our faithful friend, Clyde. We loved and enjoyed him, and we can find comfort in knowing he felt loved and enjoyed by us. No dog has had a better life.
Let me read you one last farewell from Clyde:
“Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my long happy life with you: ‘Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved.’ No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.”
