Dusty – A Treasured Gift Forever
Posted By Randy on January 27, 2012
Dusty: 1997-2012
Today, at approximately 12:30 PM Atlantic Time, Mrs LFM and I were with Dusty when he took his last breath. He wasn’t in pain or discomfort, but the past 48 hours had seen a decline in his health and joie de vivre that told us it was time. He was 15, and throughout his long, happy life, had always been possessed of that kind of overflowing vitality that so often comes packaged in the form of a good old rangy mutt. Nature blessed him with that, and us with him.
A little over a year ago, I wrote a memoriam to Alf, another great spirit whose life enriched ours, and there were written some heartfelt words I will present again on this occasion. I feel compelled to revisit them here as they speak to the responsibilities of Leadership, of Trust, and the being worthy of it:
Any Leader of Dogs worthy of the title understands and accepts the responsibilities that come with fully embracing the beautiful thing that is a relationship with a Dog, and knows going in that the relationship comes with an expiry date – one that, with all likelihood, will lead to their being dragged kicking and screaming into being the one who must decide when to end the life of somebody they only want to love and protect forever.
This is the one terribly painful part of Leadership, for it tears at the heart and leaves a searing hole. Those who willingly walk this path in the joyful company of a Dog, who strive to lead wisely and well, and do not flinch from the final responsibility to lead their charge out of this life when the time comes, are far finer and stronger creatures than he who speaks the words, “It’s just a dog”, for that one will never enjoy aid, comfort, nor friendship from us. The lesson that life is too short and precious to waste is hard won, but as hard as it is to endure, to have your calming voice be the last thing your trusty comrade ever hears is a gift that carries power beyond measure.
I’ve written of Dusty at length in my 11 July 2010 article called She Brought Me Her Worst Born, and if you haven’t read it, then I invite you to do that now. There, I told the story of how he came to be with me, a gift from Shadow, his mother. Shadow too is now long gone, but I will be forever grateful to her.
Dusty was the perfect dog. He just wanted love, fun, food, and to be included. Not a nasty bone in his body, throughout his life he more than once charmed self-professed “cat people” so that, if they didn’t love dogs, at least they loved him; and several others, who were fearful of large dogs, not only into accepting his attentions, but into actually enjoying snuggling with him. I also have photographic evidence that he could get a woman on her back faster than anybody I’ve ever known.
So tonight, sweet Dusty’s absence will leave the LFM Pack smaller by what feels to be much more than one, and while we may not reply immediately, Mrs. LFM and I invite comments here from anyone who had the honour of knowing Dusty, wish they had, or otherwise want to express their feelings.
An album of Dusty photos is up for your perusal on Facebook. Feel free to go and admire them. He loved to be admired.
Although we are now without canine companionship, your beautifully written memorial has rekindled memories of past experiences with “dog relationships”.The love affair we share with these beautiful creatures is indeed magical. I still miss and recall memories of one of my favourites who passed on when I was 16 yrs. old, and that’s 50 yrs. ago. For Dusty, he’s definitely a “wish I had known”. My sincere sympathy and condolences.
LeRoy.
Your thoughtful comments are always appreciated Leroy, and this one particularly so. That you carry in your heart a dog 50 years gone, and shared that memory here, is simply wonderful. Wonderful and not at all surprising because, as you observed, the relationship can be nothing short of magickal.
I remember the first time I saw Dusty under your table as a pup.And as a sheer free flying spirit running the back field on Hermans Island . Time is fire in which we burn . Dusty had a warm glow that comforted any and all that were privileged to come close to him . I will miss him.
Peter
Thank you Peter. You indeed have experienced Dusty in all aspects of his exuberant life, and that’s how we’ll remember him at the raise of every glass.
My condolences to you, Randy and Diana. To be a dog living with you two must be the perfect life. I wish I had met Dusty, but your words tell me almost all I need to know about this joyful dog and his 15 years of solid “dogness”. Take care Dusty, good boy.
Thank you Gary. You clearly grasped what we intended to convey.
It’s been said that a well handled blade becomes infused with the soul of its master. Whether the blade be a sword, chef’s knife, carpenter’s plane, or mower’s scythe matters not. What matters is that the master’s soul be ready and worthy to be so embraced. But a tool has no soul to give back in return, and so instead is content to empower its master by becoming a seamless and invaluable part of him.
A Dog is similar, except that it has a soul and everything wonderful that goes with it. No mere tool, the Dog is willing and able to meld its own soul with that of a master who is ready and worthy, and such a master will do the same in return. By so doing, they become more than either alone could ever hope to be. They need not aspire to greatness beyond the mere achievement of happiness in the moment, but as you know, that alone is no small thing.
Incredibly well-said Randy. I can relate well to the blade and the dog, as I am a student of both. But what a great parallel–thanks!
Thank you for sharing. My brother just lost his “shadow”, an 11 year old Retriever named Taffy (two weeks ago). I will be sharing your words with him. They are just what I have been looking for to help him through this rough time. I think he is experiencing that truly “empty” feeling of loss hanging there before the happy memories begin surface.
The relationship that you and Diana shared with Dusty was such a special one! You all had such a great impact on each other.
Karen, we’re glad if these words can give comfort to anyone who is going through the aftermath of such an event. Please do share them with wild abandon!
I am not good with words, but i can say i feel very lucky to have met dusty, he was sooo cute with his red rose, and so kind. He lit up my shop!! xoxoxo <3 u will b missed.
Selina; you say what you mean, mean what you say, and can express your feelings in short, easy to grasp sentences. How much better with words do you need to be?
Thank you. We know how a pink nose can turn your head, and LOVE that Dusty lit up your shop! He clearly enjoyed his visit there!
I never met Dusty, but his beautiful eyes tell me what I have missed.
Thank you Silvia. We can never understand people who claim that a dog’s face is expressionless. That’s far from true, and the face is where the dog’s body is just getting started!
Indeed, Dusty’s eyes spoke of what was in his soul through every moment of his life.
I can’t say anything any better than what has already been said…except I agree and you were right, I had to grab for a tissue, you touched my heart again!
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