Pets of the Kawarthas

A Beautiful Tribute

By Alice Dane

While I was swiping away through Facebook, I found this beautiful tribute to Frodo. I think every pet owner can relate, so I thought I would share it with you. This is for all the amazing fur parents out there.

Frodo

My daughters introduced me to him in 2003. He was a bit younger than they were. He was an orphan. So we made the arrangements to adopt him and he became part of the family. Like all of us, he had issues, and maybe more than most. But time and nurturing and teachable moments cured the worst of those.

He never did learn to speak, but was able to communicate through gesture and emphasis. He grew up strong. He could run like the wind and had stamina to keep that up forever. He was territorial, but he saw his job as not only looking after himself, but the four of us. It became apparent when he was older that he would stand up for us against all odds. He had no fear.

He could swim like a fish, and indeed in the summer months spent a lot of time around the pool. He was no vegetarian and was known to sneak a piece of your steak if you weren’t looking.

He did not laugh a lot. He had a serious temperament, but he loved to make people laugh. That was what he lived for. He was an early riser - the early bird gets the worm. And he used to love gazing out the window. For hours he would just watch the activity outside. He was not much for school, so we ended up home

schooling him. But I am not sure we were the best teachers. He had a real problem with authority that we never could teach out of him … he just came that way.

As the years went by, his speed decreased and his girth increased, and gradually we had to add aids so he could sit on the couch and get into bed. Oddly enough, he passed us in age. And gradually we had to then lift him onto the couch and lift him into bed. His hearing declined and his eyesight dimmed, but he always recognized his surroundings and our voices. But gradually over the last year his health declined to the point where he slept most of the day. And then a week ago he collapsed. And these episodes gradually became more frequent.

So ... a bit earlier today I took him for a drive ... something that he learned to enjoy over the last few years. But I didn’t bring him back. It was not a goodbye in a sense, but a moving on. A moving on we both knew we would have to face when we first met 16 years ago when his time with us would be over.

He has reached his destination, but I am still traveling. I am lost right now, no direction home. There simply are no words .. and no music … but there are memories … and I know they, and time, will allow his memory to help me find my bearings once again.