I received an email this morning from a concerned loyal reader, asking if I was all right. It made me realize that I overplayed my hand a bit in that mysterious post yesterday, and possibly I’ve caused some people to worry unnecessarily. So even though this isn’t the long entry I wanted to present on this subject, I’ve decided to go ahead and release the news that’s weighed so heavily on my mind for the last week:
Shadow, the Bennion Family Border Collie, whom you may remember has been fighting cancer off and on for about two years, died on December 30.
He had completed his second round of chemotherapy about seven weeks earlier and my parents and I believed him to be at last cancer-free. He was, however, afflicted with some side effects from the chemo as well as the usual complaints of old age — he had arthritis in his hips, among other problems — and in the final week of his life he was struggling against what the vet initially believed to be a bronchial infection. The antibiotic treatment for that illness seemed to be having little effect, though, so he was scheduled for an ultrasound last Tuesday to explore other possibilities — the worst scenario being a third attack from the damn cancer. But he didn’t make it to that appointment. Instead, he passed away in the night before, in my mother’s closet, where he’d always gone to hide when summer thunderstorms darkened the sky.
I know that not everyone likes animals or keeps pets, and that some who do view them as little more than furniture. All I can say to those people is that that’s not how my family does things. The Bennion animals have always been a very real part of this family, and Shadow was even more so than any other pet we’ve ever had. We all lived together under the same roof in his early years; later, he divided his time between my parents’ house and my own. (If you don’t know, I share property with my folks in an arrangement I like to call “the Bennion Compound.”) He was a constant presence around here, and for my dad especially, a constant companion. Dad took that dog with him everywhere, and Shadow’s death has hit him very, very hard. I’m grieving for my father as much as for Shadow.
I’m still going to write that tribute I mentioned yesterday, the one that’s been so difficult for me to start. I want to tell a few stories, and hopefully give you some idea of what a remarkable and wonderful being Shadow really was, and why it’s so difficult to say goodbye to him. For tonight, though, I thought it best to clear the air. To anyone who may have gotten the wrong idea yesterday, I’m sorry to have worried you. What can I say? I do have a flair for the melodramatic at times.
Here’s one final thing, a memorial card that my lovely Anne made up for my parents to send to their friends:
As always, click to embiggen. If you’re interested.
Jason, I am very sorry for your loss.
Loosing a dog is a terrible and unfortunate part of life. It is always compounded by the guilt felt in failing to protect and save them.
He looked like a wonderful companion to have.
My sincere condelences.
So sorry to hear about your loss. A family member is a family member, no matter how many legs.
Thank you, guys. Your sentiments really are helpful, and are very appreciated.
I’m so sorry. It’s so hard to lose a pet and knowing that yes, we outlive them, never makes it easier. My thoughts are with you and your family.
Thanks, Karen…
Jas, I’m so sorry to hear about Shadow. Losing a pet is as bad a losing a family member. I can only imagine the pain you and your fam are feeling. I am so, so sorry. Please give your parents my condolences.
Steph
Thanks, Steph…
Jason, I have nothing but fond memories of dear old Shadow. Especially the last time I saw him, when he was fat and healthy and his hair was still bushy and curly after his latest round of chemo. He was always a sweet and lively dog. I’ll never forget laughing over how he got his name–it was so Jason. I’ll miss him and think of him along with your family.
Thanks, Robert. For what it’s worth, his hair came back bushy and curly again after the second round, so when he left this world he looked as he was supposed to, not like he was sick.
One question though… which origin story of Shadow’s name are you recalling? (My parents remember it a little differently than I do…)
The way I remember it, he was stealing and hiding people’s shoes. So you would say, “Who knows where everyone’s shoes have gone? . . . The Shadow knows.”
Ah, yes… that’s how I recall it too.
I ask because my folks remember it a bit more prosaically — they insist we just called him that because he was always underfoot, i.e., he was like a shadow, always right behind you.
Even if it’s not true, I like the shoe story better.
For what it’s worth, I remember the story the way your parents tell it. 🙂