He"s been dead over a week now.
You may not have met Spud, but he was one of the best . . . Words fail me. He was a good dog. A true and noble companion.
I have put away his bed and toys, where they won't catch my eye and jolt me with grief. It's still hard coming home to find him not here. I keep looking for him, forgetting he's not there to pat or care for, praise and prattle to. "What dya think Spud? Time for a walk?" Just one last walk. Please.
I'm glad it was quick. On Wednesday's visit, about the new lump in Spud's throat, the vet booked him in for Friday. Australia Day was my last day with my loyal companion. He stood over food, unable to eat or drink, now, his tongue suddenly distorted in his mouth. He was in pain. On Friday we learned it was bad and aggressive. Nothing could have been done.
We were all with him when the vet gave him the overdose. He was being caressed and praised by his loved ones; Ben was going to give him something to take away the pain and he lost consciousness. He must have wondered why we were all so sad.
And it made me remember how final, how unfixable, death is. Whether it is a dog, or a person, or a species, or a planet. And as I have resolved (in the course of this painful week) to clean up my lifestyle and get the most out of what is left to me, I also resolved to scream out into the void again - despite feeling naked and open to ridicule or abuse for doing so - the cause for which I enlisted Spud's help at the end of last year. As a tribute to my sorely missed friend.
The video that starred Spud is no longer on YouTube, but he is now the hero of a novel - Tipping Point.
"I have a dream!" And it's a big one, like Martin Luther King's. I don't believe I have the stature of Reverend King. However I do believe that "from little things big things grow". It is the small kindnesses we do for others that give the most to the world and make us all strong. I'm asking you to help make big things happen. Lots and lots of little people like you and me, including some who are prepared to "big up" and step forward to help organise what must be done as we face a crisis bigger than war. A natural disaster of our own making.
As Spud fell from our arms I wanted to scream out to Ben, "No! I've changed my mind. I don't want him to die!"
I pray that our home; this wonder-full planet, this life of diversity, challenge and joy; these peoples of such courage: that we are not beyond the point of no return.
Please read the blog. Tell your friends to read it. Tell the world.
Spud's dead!
