49th Day

Today is the 49th Day since Cody died. I still expect him to be around the house sometimes. I still miss him of course. I really miss hugging him, and feeling his soft fur. I miss his "dog acknowledgement" when he would lower his ears, look slightly away, and "kiss the air". I miss all kinds of things about him. In another sense of things, he is essentially everywhere -- and always has been. That brings some comfort. I am just grateful to have been his friend and caregiver for so long. Here is a little poem.

"Repatriated"

Joe took Cody’s ashes in a floral tin box, back to the farm

in Makanda with the solemnity of a royal pallbearer.

Cody had come from and played hard on that land.

His cattle dog focus seemed to freeze time.

But as the wind picked up and swept his remains

into the air, back onto and into the ground of Makanda,

in Portland there were snow flurries.

Spring waited just a little longer.

Cody at the Beach

Just a new video of our dear geriatric Cody. I think he has to open his eyes wide to try to see around the cataracts. He is doing remarkably well, and I believe he will be 16 in about February, if we all can survive his deadly and nearly constant gas.We spent some post-election R&R at Rockaway Beach. We dearly love the little Silver Sands motel for its cozy basics, kitchenettes, pet-friendly ways, and of course, the sound of the Ocean all day and night.

Cody

Cody is 15 years old this year. I guess he is. He was found on the banks of the Ohio River one January in 1994. I estimated by his teeth that he was not quite a year old. He was unaltered, his foot pads were all mangled and his toenails were worn to nubs from living on river rip rap. But all he wanted to do was play fetch. In the river. In January.

My dad is a veterinarian (retired) and I am quite able to allow foundling dogs to come and go, to take them to the shelters without flinching. But this dog was special. I could tell. There was something about him.

We've been friends for fourteen years. He got to live the first half in Makanda, Illinois, on a farm before he began his city phase. He loves people, thinks skateboarding is a crime, goes berserk with leash aggression for other dogs, but loves all kitties.

This is Cody playing fetch on the beach in May of 2007.



He had a health crisis in April 2007 (hence the little shaved part of his front leg), and collapsed. He went to the emergency vet, and as I was preparing to have a paralyzed and incontinent dog, the next morning the vet called and said, "Guess who walked out of their kennel this morning?"

Holistic veterinary care has given him a new lease. At least another few quality years. We have gone so west coast. He gets homeopathy and acupuncture. At least we know there is no placebo effect. This stuff works!!!

Every day with Cody is a gift.