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| Photo copyright Wings, 2018; all rights reserved. |
Nine years. Hard to believe it's been nearly a decade since this little six-day visitor burrowed himself so thoroughly into our hearts.
We mostly refer to him as The Little Dude, all caps even as spoken words, because his was such a tiny body, and such a great huge spirit. His real name was Animiikins, Little Thunder Being, Thunder for short; he had a hell of a bark, and a hell of a spirit. But he got called all sorts of things: Little Guy, Big Guy, Little Man, Big Man, Little Big Man . . . . He was 100 pounds of personality in not much more than a 10-pound package, and the distemper that he came to us with (and that would very shortly be the cause of his walking on from us) gave his head a near-permanent tilt that made it seem as though he was eyeing us appraisingly as he followed us everywhere.
It took Griffin a long time to forgive me; I still haven't forgiven myself for not fighting for him. He was so trusting, this little bundle of personality and love, and before the needle went in, he looked up at me with those limpid eyes, and I would swear he smiled, and then he very deliberately curled himself into a ball and nestled in the crook of my arm and went to sleep. It was about 10:20 AM, in the same office where we just took Crow and Coyote for spaying, by the same vet who helped us with She-Wolf, and with BearGirl so long ago.
And so, in a little while, I'll take some cedar and some tobacco and some water out to his resting place, the way I do with all of ours. Because he may have been with us only parts of six days, and he may (at least according to the vet) never have had a chance, but he was one of us. And every now and then, I look at Crow, and I swear I see him smiling back at me.
We love you, Little Thunder Being.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
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