How to say goodbye when they don't speak English, and also are a dog

Hello Everyone,

[Spoiler Alert: Sophie is not dead. She just moved away.] Sophie was born in a stable on a horse farm in the idyllic Annapolis Valley of rural Nova Scotia. She came to Ottawa by air, in a small animal carrier of the type usually used for cats and small dogs of the kind that would fit in a handbag, the latter an indignity unbecoming of a Caniche Royal. She’s been back and forth to the Maritimes regularly since, a couple of times by flying, but more often in the back seat of a car, and often in the company of her sister Jane or step-brother Arthur. She travels well, usually sitting upright and leaning against the backrest so that she can watch the world pass by. She again returned home to Nova Scotia recently, but not for a visit this time. Rather, it was part of a move back to the province of her birth. Before she did though, I got to spend a day with her. Given the circumstances, it could be our last. I hope not, but life is unpredictable. At 12 years old, she’s a bit slower than she once was, and while she was never plump, her weight has gradually fallen as her digestive issues continue. But ever the one to surprise, she still has a bounce in her step and didn’t shy away from bolting into the woods to chase a squirrel or charge down a path with Arthur when I took them to a forest trail in the afternoon. She also didn’t shy away from explaining to Arthur in no uncertain terms that she while she didn’t want to wrestle, she was still in charge and that all the toys in my apartment were hers. I had been anticipating this day, both figuratively and literally, for some time. When it came, I had an uncomfortable mixture of joy and dread. It was great to spend a day with her, as I haven’t had the opportunity in many months. But there was a constant anxiety in the back of my mind that I had to make the most of it, that every moment had to be special, as this could be my last. I had the photographer’s dilemma of trying to balance both experiencing the moment and capturing it for posterity. We went to a bunch of different dog parks – the aforementioned forest path, Lemieux Island to go swimming (she only wadded to her knees), and the city park by my house. By total coincidence, we ran into a poodle puppy and a year old mutt that were the spitting image of a younger version of Sophie and Arthur. That was nice. I tried to feed as many treats as I could, but after the first, her gurgly stomach couldn’t handle it and she had to turn them down. For the most part, she took it all in stride, in the Zen mode that our companions have at their best. She hung out on the couch, ran around at the park, and generally enjoyed the bliss of not knowing what was to come next. Late in the evening, Anna came by to pick her up again. I’m excited by the opportunity they both have in moving back to the old country. But parting is always hard. When it came time, I scratched behind her ears, kissed the top of her head and said goodbye. Only for now, I hope. wes

Photos 

As mentioned, here are a few photos from that day.