Thursday, March 24, 2011

Grieving For My Dog

Lee was everyone’s favorite dog in part because she didn’t make it easy for you to like her. She was stubborn and needy and scared of almost everything: kids, loud noises, basketballs and footballs, dancing — any sudden movement, really — and cats. She wouldn’t fetch. She barked, loudly, when people were having sex. When friends came over she would insist on being petted and if they stopped she would nudge them with her head, sometimes so hard that people who were holding glasses of wine spilled it on themselves.
Stories like this one make me sad. Why is it that I so love reading them? Am I mad?
More at NYTimes.com

5 comments:

  1. You pretty much know how it's going to end before you start. But since most of us have outlived at least one pet, we compare how the author handled it, to ourselves.
    Maybe the author will make us feel better about dumb things we did or thought, or make us feel we had it better/worse, but certainly stir memories of lost loves.

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  2. Aww the death of a pet, as bad as a human.

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  3. They'll break your heart.

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  4. And BTW I love you Joanne.

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  5. Same back at ya, the Nag :-)

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