Roy Green: It’s gone quiet in our house (again)
Just over two years ago I wrote a post titled ‘our dogs have gone silent.’ I still receive emails about that post.
It was written immediately following the death of my wonderful wife and shared how The Rowdies, Rocky and Sunny our Bichon and Yorkie had closed down virtually immediately after I brought my wife’s clothing home from the hospital for the final time.
No play from two usually very noisy entertainers. No yelps of sheer joy at the prospect of an open front door creating opportunity to chase another squirrel up a tree, resulting in dogs and squirrel trading high decibel insults.
No interest in food. They just quit.
It lasted for some time. Sunny, the vet worried, might die of a broken heart. A six pound dog losing a third of his body weight isn’t good.
Since that posting The Rowdies have regained their vigor, although they now guard and watch me with determination. Sunny won’t leave my side when we come in from a walk until my shoes are off and he’s reasonably satisfied I won’t suddenly disappear into the garage.
When the three of us moved to Ontario from Quebec last year the usual happened. Boxes filled there were parked in the new basement here. To be opened ‘someday.’
I was looking for something earlier and today became ‘someday.’
Boxes opened and contents placed on the floor with dogs curiously sniffing everything.
And then it happened. Just as it did over two years ago.
Sunny let go with a piercing almost unnatural screech and began sniffing and pawing at a box with frantic determination. He glanced at me, as a dog expecting help will, and then back to pawing and yipping.
I won’t pretend I didn’t guess what might be in the box, or why he so obsessed with getting at the contents.
“OK l’il dude, let’s have a look, shall we?”
There they were. Two small pillows my wife had kept by her side for comfort during her battle.
The screech again.
A little face staring up at not me, but the pillows.
I have no idea what a dog feels, understands and instinctively connects with. I can guess because I’ve had dogs around for much of my life, but I don’t know. They’re all so different. Much like us.
I’ve heard dogs don’t have much of a memory. That they live in the present only. True? I don’t know.
I do know Sunny is right now somehow happier than he was yesterday, while simultaneously more unsettled.
He’s lying with my one of my wife’s pillows in his bed under my desk and has curled his little body around the pillow with his head buried beneath.
Occasionally there’s a little sound from under the desk. No definition to it.
I’ve stopped thinking about this wobbly world for a while. Stopped working on this weekend’s show issues and guest lineup for a bit.
And The Rowdies, it appears have stopped thinking about their next treat or walk.
Rocky is keeping an eye on his littler pal. He’s very protective of Sunny.
It’s quiet here.
It’s just the three of us. As it was then.
Roy Green is the host of The Roy Green Show
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