Comic, and Some Thoughts on Life and Death
Comic a few years ago just out of the wading pool, where he used to love to cool off on hot summer days.
My brother Luke who died, he always said someday he wanted a dog named Comic. So when my parents got a puppy shortly after Luke's death, that's what they named him.
And what a sweet dog. Followed you everywhere you went. Kisses like crazy. Smart as anything. An athlete of a dog...could hike all day and be ready for more.
Comic turned five a few months ago. A couple weeks ago, he stopped eating. Long story short, numerous vet visits and lots of love at home, he died yesterday. A blood disease, out of the blue, killing a healthy dog.
My parents have a garden--a berm--they constructed in memory of my brother. Yesterday they buried Comic there. They put a corrugated length of plastic pipe that Comic loved to chew on, to take in his mouth and shake, on top of his grave. My dad dug that grave even before his dog had died, knowing what was inevitable. It breaks my heart to think of him doing that.
A lot of death this year.
This.
And I know Comic's just a dog, and not even my dog.
Still.
I hate the reminder that death can come to anyone, at anytime, no warning whatsoever. It's hard. One of my big challenges in this life is to trust and believe that there is more to life than this, the snatching away of people and things that you love. Sometimes it feels like that's all there is. Loss upon loss upon loss, and what counters it? Anything? Or do you just sink deeper and deeper until it's finally your turn to die, to be released from all that pain?
"Luke always wanted a dog named Comic," my mom said to me when I stopped by yesterday, her eyes tearing up. "Now he's got him."
We love you, Comic. I'm so sorry this happened to you.
XOXO