Some folks call themselves cat lovers, or dog lovers. As for me my life has been graced by both. Since Smiley died in 2000 I have been limited to “grand—pets”. Each one of them has held a special place in my heart. There was Santi, Che, Maggie, Lenny (Kravitz) the black cat, Ziggy, June, Emmett, Milo, Jack, Roma, Quetzi, and the recently departed Johnny the Chihuahua. Today I write about Johnny “Rocket” who was no ordinary Chihuahua.
Johnny lived with my son Mateo and D.I.L. Melania on a small farm on the north side of the Rio Grand in New Mexico. Johnny did not know he was little or that he supposed to be irritating and bark all the time. No, when I walked in the door everyone else in the house disappeared. He was the one living soul in that house that honored patriarchy. I would no more sit in my chair than Johnny would take his place on my lap. I would gently place an arthritic hand on his back and his warmth would soothe. Last Thanksgiving Johnny and I had five days together watching TV and sleeping. With lots of intermittent visiting.
Last week I had my usual weekly phone call with Mateo, this one began differently. “Dad we had a real unfortunate thing happen on the farm last night”… long pause. “Melania let both dogs out to pee and Johnny never came back. The neighbors confirmed that the coyotes took him up the mesa and that was it”. Mind you this had never happened in all their years there.
It took me some time to process his end. Pets die and it always marks time for the years they were with us. Usually, it is old age or a rare cancer. Never once a car. Matt’s beautiful Belgian Malinois ate a pile of rocks and had to have extensive surgery. NO MORE Rocks. He is fine and spirited as ever. However, his little buddy is gone. No one saw it happen, but the Belgian is known to wander otherwise he would have defended Johnny, we are certain.
I understand that the coyotes were just doing what they do. Like the Bald Eagles in our neighborhood that took a lady’s Poodle. She seriously wanted the state Wildlife Department to relocate the eagles. “Mam, this is their home, your dog was just a visitor”. Nature is both beautiful and arbitrary. I try not to think of how it came down, rather, I am grateful for 10 years of lap time with Johnny.
I was driving with my mentor Rev. Charles Whitmer after visiting a long time church member who was dying of cancer at age 59. “Mark, after nearly 28 years here these people become not just members but friends. Ministry does not get easier, it gets harder. You have to say goodbye to so many people. Yep you get to say hello too, but goodbye is very hard”.
Well, goodbye Johnny Rocket, I don’t blame the pack that got you but rather, I own that I will miss you a whole lot… grief is a gift.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 