12 February 2016

The Hammer Rests In Peace



The Hammer is gone now. I wish I could say her final moments were equal parts sadness and peacefulness. Perhaps in time I shall.

She was a special dog, not only to Sonja and I, but to all who knew her. She was a protective, sweet, feisty, humourous, adventurous, communicative, inspiring, loving dog who would have been the best of mothers if she had been given the chance.

The sweetest dog I ever had.

Fuck. I miss her so.


15 comments:

Danneau said...

I'll crack a beer and cry in it with all the empathy I can muster. Clearly, she will be missed.

Anonymous said...

Aww.. it's so damn hard to let go...
But the sweet memories last forever.
Keep them closest to your heart.

I remember each and every one of my 4-legged companions I have had to say goodbye to - from bovines, pigs, horses, and DOGS!!

RossK said...

Damn it all anyway.

Only met her once but I feel like I know her so well.

Tune comin'...


.

motorcycleguy said...

Lately, everytime Mrs. Motorcycleguy sees me reading the internet machine she asks if I checked here yet to see how Hammer is doing. Today will be a more difficult answer.

karen said...

Oh no. Oh no. I'm so sorry Beer. I love reading about the Hammer. I'm going to have a good cry too, but I think into something stronger than beer. I will miss her too, which I think says maybe a lot about what you've written about her.

Chuckstraight said...

Regards for your old friend .
Dogs are the best.

Chuckstraight

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Thanks for all your thoughts. The Hammer did not know (I don't think) she had a wider profile than the rest of the neighbourhood dogs. She never got how I could sit pecking at a keyboard when there were so many more fun things we could be doing. Once I got an iPad she often would nose it impatiently off my lap like she once did when I would be reading the paper on weekend mornings. People like you cared for her and she was pretty fucking reciprocal about that.

fencer said...

Hi Mr. Beer,

So sorry to hear of your friend's departure. Relationships with dogs run deep. Their unshielded hearts can make ours that way too, often to our betterment.

In your writing, you also brought her to life....

Regards

Anonymous said...

RIP pooch, sounds like you lived up to the man's best friend moniker.

istvan said...

RIP Hammer.

paul said...

So sorry. No words really work when there is a loss like this.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Quite right Paul. All I have lost over the years real close to me besides my dogs have been grandparents. That was plenty sad but I did not spend the time, day in and day out, with them like I have with my dogs.

sassy said...

My condolences to you and Sonja on losing Hammer, your four legged family member. She's left paw prints on your hearts.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

She really did. I'm waking for her tonight. She lived good and she left about as positive a mark on the world she touched as a dog can. What a great motherfucking dog she was!

Scotty on Denman said...

I don't think I've ever posted here before---stop by once in a while---but I've had so many hounds...

It's never easy, I know. With me it was like if my hound(s) couldn't come, I didn't go, and right now I'm reminded of how many friends, acquaintances never knew me except with "my left leg(s)" attached.

Put my Tsuki down, buried her on the promontory she and her father Roscoe used to sit for hours a day, both there now; she was my best one---but I've said that about all of 'em at one time. Lady bought that place said I can come visit anytime I want, which is nice, see the mountains through the trees from there, hear the creek below.

Think it was two years or so before people quit asking me when I'd get another one, so weird, they said, to see me drive by without at least one head on the bench beside me (that pickup was unsellable stinky in the end---sold it for scrap, even though it ran fine, but 20-odd years it wasn't really "my" truck anyways).

Got dealt some cards that precluded getting a new one, puppy anyway. Only worse thing I can imagine would be leaving one behind (you know, I'm sure, that's the worst thing for them---every time you walk away they worry). Some reason this morning I thought about adopting one with a better chance of chewing the boot before I do, but I can barely afford my own vet bills.

I may never know just what to do about that. But I do know I can't listen to "Old Shep" anymore, even though I was raised in the sticks, spent most of my life in the woods, seldom alone... It's just really hard sometimes, other dogs seem to know when I feel like that. There's always other dogs.

Heartfelt condolences,

Scotty