We look at him through different eyes
now. That one moment changed how all of us thought. I know it’s a
natural instinct, especially for some breeds including his, but it
felt like a betrayal. I heard Flounder’s incessant barking and
went out into the yard to yell at him to stop. I rounded the corner
of the house and saw both dogs standing over something on the ground.
A towel? A stuffed toy?
Oh no. It only took a second for my mind
to click on what it was. Or more like who: Zorro. My Zorzor, my
ginger tabby who could be quite an ass, was who lay prone on the
ground. Had he been sick? Attacked by a wild animal? Even though I
saw the saliva on him and the dog standing over him my mind rejected
the obvious at first. He had no signs of injury but his head flopped
when I picked him up and I knew his neck was broken. He was still
soft and warm and his eyes had yet to cloud over. I carried him back
to the house calling Prince Eric’s name as I sobbed.
“He’s dead. I don’t what
happened. I don’t think Loki did it. I don’t know if Loki did
it. I think Loki did it.”
I voiced this all in one thought,
inconceivable at first but I knew that’s what happened. We only had this beautiful, sweet, young dog for a month but we had
noticed he liked to chase and bark at the cats when they ran from
him. It never crossed my mind that he would actually injure one. Grimsby had taken to hiding in the closet high up on the shelves and
hissed if he came near him. Zorro was the type to flee. Due to his
frequent “pissed off” mood, (meaning he peed on things when he was
mad) he spent a lot of time outside. Until Loki came, he was
ecstatic. He had found his true place outside, only coming in to eat
and would act like the walls were closing in on him if he was forced
to stay inside due to the cold weather. We didn’t see him for a
full week when we first got Loki and then just got occasional
glimpses as he streaked by. He liked to hide under the back porch
and I think this is where he was on that last day. Loki caught his
scent and sniffed around under the porch and the chase was on. Oh
poor Zorro, you didn’t deserve this.
None of us wanted to acknowledge Loki.
We knew he had no concept of what happened but he was hard to
face. It was several hours before Flounder would go near him. I
don’t know whether he was afraid of him or did he feel betrayed,
too? We made the quick decision that we had to find Loki a new home.
We couldn’t live in fear of coming home to another dead cat or
dog. Or what if there had been a baby in the home? I have no idea
if his aggression carries over to small dogs or children; we’ve
never seen him near either, but I can’t chance it. We contacted
the previous owner who requested we find him a new home. Tomorrow, he is
being taken to our local shelter and they will evaluate his behavior
and aggression and hopefully clear him for a new family without cats.
Everyone was subdued the rest of the
day, Flounder stayed near us and Loki was uncharacteristically quiet.
He looked at us with confusion and seemingly mournful eyes. Again,
I don’t think he had a concept of what happened but he could sense
the mood of the room.
At Melody’s insistence I made
arrangements to have Zorro cremated at Pathways Pet Memorial Garden. Unfortunately, this was after
he had been buried for 2 days already. Prince Eric is a good man.
I’ve never had a pet cremated; we’ve either buried them or let
the vet make disposal arrangements. But Melody was closest to him
and this is what she wanted, she needed that tangible piece to
remember him. It’s odd how memories work. I know that the bond I
have with Flounder, I will want that touchstone too. When my dad
died, we buried half of his ashes in our state’s national cemetery.
He was a career military man and I wanted him to have that honor.
We spread most of the rest of his ashes on the grave of his parents
and kept a little behind. Interestingly, you can have the ashes of your loved ones (human or animal)made into a keepsake. Just like the ash from Mt. St Helen's. it can be turned into glass or put inside jewelry without being altered.
It is the memory behind things, not the
actual object, that keep us holding on to them. An oversimplification, the people on
Hoarders extreme cling to past objects because getting rid of it
would be like throwing away the person. Don’t we all do that to
some extent? We collect souvenirs on trips, concert t-shirts, or we
sleep in our boyfriends t-shirt because it smells like him. We hold
onto our baby’s “going home from the hospital” outfit and we
keep scrapbooks of them growing up. We tuck away that soft, silky lock from
a first haircut and those first tiny baby teeth. I still have Fuzzy,
my favorite childhood stuffed animal. I also wear my mom’s wedding
ring. Besides always liking the design, it is a symbol of a
long-lasting, though hardly perfect, marriage. It is a symbol that I
felt safe in my family as a child.
Though I tend not to keep a lot
of things, I have a garage full of tubs that say otherwise. My
grandmother’s china, my high school yearbooks, chicken décor that
I collected over the years. With every move I’ve pared down, but I
would love to live in a tiny house with very little “stuff”.
Would I keep china or dishware if it didn’t belong to this
grandmother that I’ve never met? No, I certainly have enough
dishes. But the woman I’m named after set her family’s table
with these plates and cups. Her essence is in them. I’ve been
saving them to use at our future wedding (May 25, 2019, you’re all
invited) but maybe I should start using them already. Yes, some may break, but what use do
they have sitting in the garage and why hold on to meaningless plates when I have a collection of memories I could be using?
Do objects inherently hold power, or just the worth we assign to them? Like the plates that have my grandmother's essence, think about the objects that once were owned, or even touched by celebrities. Celebrity touched item; I touched the item; ergo, I touched the celebrity. It's that special feeling of connection and that there's something magical about this inanimate object. People carry lucky charms or special bingo daubers. Athletes might make sure they always wear their “lucky shirt” or sports number. Kind of like a placebo drug, if the achieved result is there, does it matter if it’s all because our mind made it happen or if there were outside forces?
Do we imbue non-living things with our living molecules? Psychics
sometimes use something belonging to a person to get a read on them.
New age thought uses crystals to give certain inner power. Dogs use
their sense of smell to track down a missing person. Maybe, are we
really tapping into some unconsciously underdeveloped senses when we
touch an object and it triggers a mental image?
