It is an odd thing to write a eulogy of sorts about a family pet. I am sure that some will scoff, but a family member is a family member, and grief is grief. So I am going to offer her a tribute because she deserves is.
I cannot count the amount of times someone looked at Gibran (our dog) and saw wisdom and spirituality in her eyes. There was something knowing about her. I’ll never forget the day when we brought Anthony (our first born) home. Gibran was curious, but never threatened or threatening. She seemed to know instinctive the difference between her toys and Anthony’s toys. There really isn’t a big difference between dog toys and baby toys. This was how she was with each child that came home. She sniffed the baby and then went back to her own life. As the kids got older, Gibran knew that when she played with them she needed to be gentle and careful. She had a tender soul.
When the kids went outside I did not worry if Gibran was there. She would let us know if someone was around. When I went for hikes with Gibran I never put her on a leash because I knew she would not leave me, and she never did. I may not have been able to see her, but she could always see me. She kept squirrels out of the yard and protected our garden from rodents. She loved to go for walks and to play with me. Rebekah gave Gibran the love and attention, she would pet Gibran, but we had an attachment. I would walk her and it was good. I would feed her, and I would be with her when she would die. She wasn’t a puppy or even a pet but a companion to me. We did not need to speak much, we did not need to be cute together, we just seemed to understand each other.
To find someone who understands you, who is your companion but never says a word is a rear thing. To find someone whose quiet presence is comforting is a rear thing. Gibran was that comforting presence. She love to be doted on, she loved to be pet, but with me she would sit at my feet under the dinner table and I would enjoy her warmth on top of my toes.
I know that it will be a while before I truly miss her. It will be a while before I notice that I am no longer going on walks, that I no longer can watch her chase away the squirrels. It will be a while before I truly feel the absence. I will grieve now, but this is an immediate grief. The deep grief will come as I notice the ways my life has changed, the absence of her in my life.
For a pet, a companion, a friend I could not ask anything more from her. She was greatly loved in this family and she will be greatly missed.
This is something that my oldest son, Anthony, wrote:
Friday January 21, 2011,
Gibran is going to die today. She is 11 years old. Born in 1999 to 2010. It is hard to let go of her but it’s the right thing to do.
God, bring Gibran to heaven, and protect her there please. Amen.
Good bye Gibran. From Anthony Joseph Malone
3 comments:
Good bye to our walking buddy. We will miss you very much and think of you often.You were a good friend.
Kathy, Randy, and Finny.
Jonathan, you do not have to apologize for a eulogy to a friend. This is a fitting tribute to Gibran. I know -- I have four-footed friends, too.
Really nice piece (not your first). Makes me rethink my relationship to a certain beagle, who is a lousy human, but a GREAT dog. ;)
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