01/26/2021
Our friends Jamie and Alice (and now their little sister Nancy) are from the same lineage as a couple of Sammies we've come to know through Facebook only named Levon and Noodles. They also got a little brother when Nancy came along -- she and Strummer are from the same litter, and now Doug and Megan live in Montana, close enough to the other family to see them regularly and let the dogs remain close. Word came today that Levon, who had been battling kidney problems for a while, has died.
I feel like I knew him and Noodles a little bit because of all the Facebook posts, so I'm sad for his family on that front. But I know Jamie and Alice very well (and hope to know Nancy similarly well someday) and I know how much they're going to miss him. They went through a real mourning process when their buddies Ike and Fish (two of the most badass cats in the history of feline badassery) died, and I'm sure they're going to miss Levon in the same sad, puzzled way.
It's times like these that make me wish you could flip a switch and buy yourself even just five minutes of real conversation with your pet so you could explain this kind of thing when it happens. It has to be so confusing and perplexing and troubling to not understand why their buddy isn't there when they visit next time. It's just not something that really jibes with their universal view.
I'm sure I'm overthinking it, but I don't know many dogs as well as I know Jamie and Alice, or many dog owners who love their dogs as much as Doug and Megan do. Okay, that's not fair -- everyone loves their dog 100, but not many families put their dogs so seamlessly and centrally into all aspects of their lives. As a result, their dogs have the happiest, richest lives of any dogs I know. And, of course, Doug and Megan (and occasionally we Keplers) reap the bounty of their presence in ways that just wouldn't happen without them.
Even from a couple of thousand miles away, I'm wishing with all my heart that they didn't have to hurt as much as they're going to because of the Levon-shaped hole that they'll find when they go to see Noodles and Strummer next time.
You'll be missed, Levon -- hell, I miss you and I never even got to meet you.