Early this evening our dog Essa passed quietly from this world. She was quite simply the dog of my dreams and I will miss her. Stoic through chronic conditions of old dog age she was gentle and loving to the end.
Already I feel the absence of our nightly walks. Standing at the end of the driveway looking up at the stars I can feel her in me. She taught me how to be thoughtful and as author James Thurber noted “Dogs are obsessed with being happy”. I witnessed that in her. And that happiness rubbed off on Kim and I.
I made this picture yesterday afternoon. Essa was bright and happy despite severe spinal arthritis, kidney and liver disease, and the march of time on her body. Her fire burned bright despite these setbacks.
Not long afterwards she collapsed in the yard and we took her to the emergency veterinary clinic. A night in the clinic followed and then to our vet where for a time there was a glimmer of hope that she would rally and improve. By morning though she was fading. Lying on the floor of a kennel with closed eyes I did not see her get up again. Her body had enough living.
Kim and I stayed with her awhile in the morning and afternoon and planned to return in the evening when we got the call — a sudden decline and she was dying. Essa passed away just minutes before we arrived. The vet told us she was quiet and didn’t suffer. He body gave up just before her 16th birthday.
There was a skylight over the place where she died and as I looked up at the blue sky I imagined her flying free now unencumbered by her failed body. It’s selfish of me but I wish she had stayed a bit longer.
The house is quiet and the empty place she once occupied is palpable. For those of you who have had dogs living in the home you’ll understand.
I know the sadness will pass and the good memories will take it’s place. But right now that’s hard to believe.











