Tag Archives: beloved pets

GUY HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

guy 3Guy has left the building. And he did it his way—by falling off the bed in his sleep, resulting in a dizzying wake-up lurching motion that sent his mama racing to the emergency clinic, Guy in her lap.

Turned out, Guy was telling his people something with that fall. He was gravely ill with a silent killer and entering the doggie equivalent of dementia.

Let me tell you, if love could protect a dog from harm, Guy would still be with us now. Because love saved him from active harm in the first place. He arrived at Joe and Elissa’s house a bundle of bones and needs, neglected to near-death by owners who had no business claiming ownership of anything with a heartbeat. His name, Guy, came from Joe calling him “a cheerful little guy for all he’s been through.”

That was our Guy: whatever you did, whatever was happening, however it turned out, it was all good, man. Here, rub mah belleh and you’ll feel better. Just, chill, dude. That was Guy’s philosophy of life.

While you were chilling, though, Guy could get his nose down your waistband faster than any dog—human or canine—I’d ever met. Little fuzzy Guy was something of a predator when it came to women’s clothing. He pushed in, and you just didn’t have the heart to push back, because what could one little Guy do? Until his nose was in your crotch, inside your trousers. Far be it from me to speak ill of the dead, but Guy, you were pushing it big time, buddy. I think you left some lawsuits behind.

guy 2Guy crossed the Rainbow Bridge this morning. More correctly, Guy left the building, but whether he’s crossed the Bridge by now, well… you had to know our Guy. He could turn a two-minute walk into a twenty-minute discovery adventure. He never met a turtle he wouldn’t race. Never saw a puddle he didn’t want to splash in. Nor a pillow he didn’t want to test for softness, and then you could come back later…

So Guy is probably about halfway across the Bridge by now, meandering with a sniff here, a lifted leg there, perhaps a nap in one of the sunbeams before proceeding. He will pause several times to admire his reflection in the water. Guy had eyelashes that supermodels would kill for, this baby, fringing molten pools of liquid black gold. Little plump thing could melt you with his eyes.

And if there are humans on the Bridge, he will be leaning against their legs, giving them the limpid black eyes treatment, and, when they bend to say “What a sweet little guy,” he will be ramming his needle nose down their trousers. It was a practiced move and he will see no reason to stop now he’s in Doggie Heaven. Heck, that IS his Doggie Heaven.

When he finally reaches the far shore, Guy will be greeted by his foster brother Black Jack, who will try to entice him to use the trampoline, go to the steak luau, maybe even watch the movie (you wouldn’t have heard of it. They have their own canine producers across The Bridge). And Black Jack will, in the end, and with a sigh, show Guy to the soft plush pillows near the Heat Vents, and Guy will settle in, with a happy sigh, and dream of turtles.

guy

 

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Filed under animal rescue, Big Stone Gap, blue funks, Life reflections, Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, small town USA, Uncategorized

A Poem for Bert

Our friend James watches the bookshop fairly often when we run about for this or that. James is a gifted poet and he sent us this in honor of our fuzzy guy. (His loss is why there have been no blogs this week. It’s just hard right now.)

So here, from James Ryan, is the poem

BERT

Bert the bookstore Terrier was really quite a guy

He did his job with great aplomb although he’d lost an eye

He inspected all the corners of the bookstore every day

Then he’d take the time to watch the kittens at their play

He greeted each customer as they came through the door

Unless, of course, he was asleep then you’d hear him snore

Watching the bookstore was a fun but never-ending task

The loving he received for this was all that he could ask

He knew his job and did it well whenever there was need

When there wasn’t he would sit and watch the kittens feed

To them he was their Uncle Bert a kind and gentle soul

Who watched them play and laughed when they’d trip and roll

He loved them all and treated them as if they were his own

And celebrated every time one got a furrever home

Now he’s crossed the rainbow bridge with a leap and run

Where his friend Zora is waiting to play and have some fun

He’s in a happy place now where he’ll never take a hurt

So, we celebrate the life of the Bookstore Terrier called BERTBert fostering

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Filed under animal rescue, Big Stone Gap, bookstore management, humor, Life reflections, Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, small town USA, Uncategorized