Farewell to an old friend

I envy people who feel a spiritual certainty about what becomes of 'us' after we draw our final breath - I have ideas and thoughts, but nothing solid enough to give me the comfort of 'knowingness.' Still, life waits for no one and today we had to bid farewell to Rosie aka Black Dog aka The Dog of Love. I know, people always go on and on about their dogs and with good reason. We get from them the unconditional, always new feeling of love that we rarely find anywhere else on earth. So I just want to take a moment to honor her passing with some rather amusing tales (tails) -

Something some folks may not know is that our corporate name, Border & Black Ventures, was formed in honor of our border collie rescue dog, Jackie Brown, and Rosie, a mixed breed, also a rescue dog. When asked what kind of dog Rosie was, we'd just say "She's a black dog" because that pretty much summed it up in terms of breed characteristics. However, we named the company Border & Black because we actually admire the traits they each exhibit naturally. I'll leave the Border part for another day, but the Black part from Rosie was this. She had a healthy love of food (which we transcribed into a love of healthy food), a tendency to always hang out with the big dogs and get them to play nice, and the ability to simply share the love.

When she took agility training, she wasn't any good at all at agility, but she sure knew how to work the crowd. She was dubbed 'the agility hostess' because she'd greet all the dogs and people then settle in looking for food on the floor or trying to work her magic a second time to get everyone else to feed her treats again.

But as happens to us all eventually, her eyesight went, then her hearing, then just about everything else. She had a couple of brushes with ailments we thought might bring her demise, though both times she somehow miraculously pulled out of these ailments and almost snapped back. These events became known as the times Rosie simply needed to be rebooted. She got rebooted twice, though each time she came back with a bit less zest, a bit less - well, Rosie-ness.

We saw the decline and acknowledged she was simply aging, so we accommodated. Her walks were shorter so she could manage, we got up with her at 4am because, well, that's what time she got up. We moved slower and grew more patient just allowing her to enjoy life as it came to her. Last night, it was a beautiful cool desert summer night. We sat in the backyard and heard the crunch crunch crunch of a neighbor was walking down his driveway. We couldn't see him, but they heard the footsteps and both dogs gave an obligatory bark or two. The neighbor himself barked back playfully a couple of times (he's never done that in all the years we've lived here). Rosie barked once more, apparently satisfied, then stood on her wobbly, failing legs, just sniffing the night air. A good night to say farewell.

Like all the dogs in all our lives, she'll be remembered for how much love she helped us feel. So today, in honor of Rosie, share the love with someone or something in an unconditional, black dog kind of way.