I wrote this post almost a year ago to the day. This morning Hamish died of a heart attack at my parent’s his winter home in Florida.
I could write about how he was old and blind and had slowed down and how we knew this was coming. I could write about what a great life he had (seriously – we should all be so lucky) and how nice it was for him to just go without suffering a lot or getting to the point where decisions had to be made. I could write about all sorts of things but instead I will tell you about the Hamish I will remember.
I remember the first time I met him, information pills how he jumped on my lap, price put his paws on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. I saw something in the depths of those brown eyes and he must have seen something in mine too because he decided from that moment on that I was his.
I remember the way he carried on when I came over – as though I was the most important person in the world. That was a welcome I would drive across the city for in terrible weather, a welcome for which I sometimes skipped class. That welcome was therapy.
I remember how after he welcomed me to my parent’s his home he would stare me down until I sat down and then jump up on my lap and settle in.
I remember how we used to have a game where he would get all excited after peeing/marking his territory and we would run and run and run until he slammed on his doggy breaks and had to pee/mark his territory again.
I remember his neck of steel and how painfully annoying it was to walk him because he was a saunterer and needed to sniff Every Little Freakin’ Thing.
I remember how if you ate an apple within hearing/smelling distance of him (anywhere in the house) he would run to where you were (even blind) and you would have to share.
I remember the Ginger Snap Incident of 2003 wherein the Mister, hereby known as The Defendant was walking with a homemade ginger snap in his hand and Hamish, hereby known as The Accused stole said ginger snap right out of said hand. The charges were dropped but the damage was done and The Defendant never forgave The Accused. The Accused did not care.
I remember how we always said he was the best dog ever. He was.
Goodbye my Hamish. I hope doggy Heaven has lots of rabbits for you to chase and paths lined with strawberry bushes just ripe for the picking.