Why I feel lousy today

People have been asking me all day how the Thanksgiving weekend went. That’s what people do when they talk after a long weekend.

I say, “We had a very nice Thanksgiving dinner.” In truth, I feel lousy.

Last night, after I fed our two old horses, I turned to call Cheyenne, our 14-year-old Golden Retriever, as I always do when it’s time to go back inside. There was no answer, because Cheyenne died at 12:46 p.m. yesterday. Out of habit, I had expected her to come bounding to me.

A lot has been written about the relationship between people and dogs, about how those of different species can forge such close bonds with one another. It’s also often said that our pets are like a part of our families. In fact, they are a part of our families, and when we lose them it leaves a tremendous hole in our lives.

We’re left only with pictures and pleasant memories. I remember many things about Cheyenne — a close encounter with a bear; walks on the beach; the time she tried to play with two coyotes that had very different intentions; birthday parties for her and her siblings; lazy summer afternoons at the farm just enjoying each others’ company.

Most of all, though, I remember her sweet nature, her eagerness, her readiness to forgive, her intelligence, her patience, and her willingness to fall in with whatever the rest of us were doing. “What’s up? I’m in!” she always seemed to say with her big doggy smile.

I also remember her amazing courage and wonderful resilience in the face of the illness that eventually would claim her. We’re thankful for one last wonderful summer with her, and for her last day, which she enjoyed being as happy and loving as ever.

We’ll miss her dearly.