Pierre, 7 Years Young

Pierre turned 7 years old a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t have my camera to take pictures. It never gets easier, and there is no peace when our beloved animals age. I have to push all the sadness deep down and tell myself, enjoy him now, hold and love him as much as you can now. 

I still haven’t recovered from the loss of Addis, experiencing that was soul breaking, it was an experience I imagined I could handle prior, but ended up crashing for a year after and 3 years later I still wake up crying about it. I have to shake my head hard when the thoughts of that day begin to rise, and force myself to not think of that day, that terrible day.

I can not see Pierre and not think of Addis, and that loss and that life and that time when it was just Addis and Pierre, the best of friends. Addis believed Pierre was her dog, and Pierre worshiped her. I can’t believe it’s been 7 years…how can we experience so many lifetimes in one life, so many pieces of our selves placed gently behind but not without ache, not without tears for what was and what is.

Pierre continues to be the sweetest of loves. He greets me every single morning no matter how cold it is, how tired he is or how early it is, there he is, paws up on my legs large brown eyes eager for my stinky morning breath kisses and hugs.

He’s a show off and loves to take large leaps over the thresholds between our doors. He kicks the dirt up wildly outside after doing his business and runs as fast as he can to the gate to come inside. He has a terrible habit of loving “chocolate biscuits”, especially the ones the cats leave behind, and he acts as though he is forever starving, forever has he been without the tiniest morsel of food and please oh please won’t you just feed his starving belly with one more piece of cheese?? Are you so cruel?? He loves all food (safe for dogs) and even dropped spinach is a delicacy to him.

The dishwasher is his greatest vice (well besides chocolate cat biscuits) and if I’d let him he’d happily go through a cycle as long as he could keep licking the silverware.

He tolerates Wallis only because she often smells of food, is holding food, or being fed food but otherwise she is merely an obstacle to get around, so that he can either chew his bone in my lap or Andrew’s. There have been quite a few occasions that he has sat on top of Wallis who was sitting on one of our laps and acted totally unaware of her wiggling beneath him as he kissed our faces over and over.

His breath smells of donkey and dried blood but you can not convince him that’s a bad thing and he would choose spa day (bath day) every single day if you’d let him. He loves having a bath, being blown with my hairdryer and even clipping his nails goes as smooth as butter. He loves to be pampered but also, loves to get filthy by rolling in the dirt or grass. Speaking of grass, he eats it like a goat never once vomiting from it, and acts as though we grow it just for him.

He never listens but likes to make you think he might, and he will bark desperately that he needs to go the bathroom RIGHT THIS MINUTE and when you come down as quickly as you can to run him out, he will casually walk over to his water bowl and proceed to take a long leisurely drink and look at you like, where’s the fire?

He howls whenever we leave the house, or if one of us left the house too fast, or if my dad is here and hasn’t come inside yet to greet him. The howling is the most dramatic howling you have ever heard, as though we are slowly torturing him inside. Wallis is use to it by now and it doesn’t even wake her from a nap if he does it. He has howled like that since he was a puppy, and it is very much the way he expresses himself.

He never did recover from the loss of Addis though, and if Olive ever has to leave without him, he freaks out. He paces the house, running up and down the stairs, he howls, and there is nothing that can be done to comfort him…and I hate it. Once Olive has returned he is 100% back to himself, and I can finally relax myself. Never believe for a moment that animals do not mourn or suffer from loss.

Pierre we almost didn’t adopt you, what a tragedy that would have been for us all, to live this life without you. You have filled our lives with more laughter, eye rolls and joy then we could have ever imagined. Happy Birthday our love.

Here Pierre is clearly judging me for something, as usual, most likely my yoga pants.

Overlooking his Kingdom.

Stretch from sleeping inside  to sleep outside.

You shall not pass…squirrels or frogs, or leaves that look like frogs.

Love whispers to Olive, a calming presence in his life and who mended his broken heart.

Sitting in the grass with my rabbit.

You can see the age in his eyes, but he plays just like a puppy.

Pierre likes to sniff our flowers before he pees on them…or attempts to pee on them, as I am constantly on guard.

Loving you always.


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