Duke

Duke died.

Those words may not mean much to you, but that is because you never met Duke.

He was an old, arthritic English Spaniel type dog who lived with my son and his wife up in the mountains of North Carolina, along with two other big dogs and a boy.

Duke got his name from the hot dog stand he hung around when my son went up there to run it for a friend one year. As they sold hot dogs, hand made milk shakes and kitschy bottles of pop out the window, Duke limped around begging pats on the head and scraps from customers. He had been badly mistreated by his former owner and once my son adopted him required some care for his battered body and matted fur.

After that he became the consummate dog. His happy spaniel attitude and gentleness made everyone fall in love with him and when they found themselves overrun as the owners of three large dogs, there were several offers to take Duke off their hands. But who could give up a dog like that?

He used to run, in a stiff-legged, loping way, down the hill to the back of the yard and when he thought no one was watching, madly dig in the hole he had chosen as his life's work. And, if left out long enough, would manage to wriggle under the fence and go exploring across the fields and back yards of anyone close by. I can remember standing up on the deck one summer, looking out and seeing him leaping through the tall grass down the mountain. He was a lover, big, oofie and cuddly. I felt honored that year whenever he deigned to lie by my bed at night.

Of course he was old then and his former life had left him scarred and damaged so we all knew he would not live forever, but his life was good these last years. Today, my son's wife found him asleep, or so it seemed, on the bedroom rug and called my son who came home, wrapped him up in a blanket and buried him in that hole he'd been digging all these years. He will be missed.

Still, I like to imagine him, pain free, eyes bright and stubby little tail wagging as he runs through some flower filled meadow where dogs go to dream for all eternity.