Ella Does Squamish

I have thought of almost every single person I know that has died this week.  Death is so weird like that.  

Also a review of e-dog’s life: her squirrel thing (killing - how many did she kill?); she nailed a baby muskrat one time, much to my disgust; her fear around loud noises:  firecrackers, bridges, thunder (which at one point morphed into a fear of rain); how she got lost during a thunder storm at Browns Lake and D., her dog M. (deceased 8 years ago) and I were up at Browns Lake the next morning looking for her at 6 am, we put up notices all over Wakefield and the area and I received a phone call that she was at a house on Ring Road; how she took off on D. one cold, winter day at the Ottawa River and managed to cross the parkway and find her way home, exhausted; how she ‘ate’ the couch on Irving St.; how she saved the 80+ year old woman next door on Irving by barking when her place was being broken into; how she was charged with ‘assault’ on another dog (a specious claim and the charges were dropped); how she jumped up when a pup and accidentally scratched my eyeball; how she used to sit with me and put her head under my chin; how she used to lie on her back, legs splayed on the couch asleep; how she ate half the pumpkin I had carved for Halloween one year; also a 5 lb. box of chocolates; how she was ’skunked’ three times; how she turned ‘grey’ overnight after her porcupine incident; how LB and DH looked after her when I went on holiday; how she liked to eat almost anything but especially stuff that was orange (oranges, squash, carrots, etc); her special friends, MC, DH, LB, and RB, as well as LC (who used to take her with him when he went bike riding); RK (who took her for long walks in the winter); PZ (who was a good pal); and RB (who took her out to the woods at 4 am). 

I have also been thinking of the day I first saw her in the humane society pound, how I went in and sat with her, how that night we discussed powerful female names for a black dog and RW suggested the name of Ella, how I knew it was a good match:  Ella and me.  Such a life of adventure; so much love, loyalty, fun and companionship that she received and gave (even if she was an opportunist, always looking out for the next treat or walk!) 

I have been crying all week even though I know that this was the best possible decision.  I watched an adaptation of Jane Austen’s ‘Sense and Sensibility’ last night on the telly and cried throughout even though it is more a movie about women and class.  I cried when we took e-dog for her last walk this morning at the beach, when I gave her steak, when R. gave her chocolate, throughout the procedure today even though the vet. (who was very kind) confirmed that her old ticker was failing, in addition to her other multiple health concerns.  I cried burying her even though I know she is at peace and will now be able to chase squirrels again in the big sky or whatever place dog spirits go.  She will be very missed.  And I know that ella was just a ‘dog,’ but she has been, was, such a big part of my life for the last 16 years. 

I really appreciate all the kind words and thoughts about e-dog.  She is buried in a lovely spot, surrounded by forest, wind and mountains, near where the ocean meets the river and bald eagles fly.  Rest in peace, dear e-dog.