THE LIFE OF PI

  

     

  

     I never had an old dog before. When I grew up we had hounds like Willy, Waldo, Tippy, Peppy, Putney, and Zack. The list was long and their lives were short.

      Back then dogs ran free. Usually they'd either run away or run into cars. I've had mutts to whippets but one dog I never had was an old one... until now.

         "Pi" came to us as a surprise birthday gift. We

had a small pond in our yard. The only thing I wanted was a fish. We went to a pet shop to get one and came home with a dog.  

    We had no choice, the little brown terrier was caged in a temporary adoption center.  Her deep, doleful eyes said, "take me home".

     

    When I started writing this last month she was fourteen and spiraling down, the result of a brain tumor. 

        She left us last week -softly lapping ice cream on the back porch- as a compassionate vet led her through the gates of Heaven.

 

       Most everyone thinks their dog is "the best" and we were no different. Pi was so clever she named herself by imprinting the pi sign on her chest. She knew an incredible number of tricks (4) including "sit" and "shake". 

    

   She loved to travel. Pi got to lick glaciers, admire buffalo and watch balooga whales frolicking in the St. Lawrence Seaway.

 

    She even went to jail, impounded by the Canadian border police so our van could be thoroughly searched for

Summering in southern Utah

contraband (they found illegal fire wood).

 

Dylan with his favorite

      

    As she was the one that stuck around, Pi was the dog our kids knew best. Her gentle, outgoing personality allowed her to make friends easily.

      

     Over the years much of her short chocolate fur turned grey much like the "fur" on my head. She and

I seemed to mirror each each other as the years rolled on.

     Francesca and I loved each step Pi took from puppy hood to the struggles in her declining years.

      

    She sleeps under our grapefruit tree now. We sit with her often. 

     Left with our memories an added treat surprised us. As we packed her things Francesca picked up a throw rug, the one Pi slept on. She sniffed it and smiled. It was still strong with the scent of our little doggy.  

We may never wash it.

    It's one more memory of Pi, the best dog ever.