I called his name. He heard my voice. He perked up, carried himself to the top of the stairs, and waited for me. He was so thin, you could see the bones of his back, his ribs, the crown of his head poking through. Five days with no food. Only a few sips of water. Unexpectedly I thought of the Grateful Dead. Jerry Garcia used to sing at the Acid Tests in 1967 - "Death don't have no mercy." You wonder how those young acid heads in San Francisco took in that message.
I picked him up, carried him downstairs, put him on a little cushion. Every one of his breaths came hard. The owner and I talked a bit. We marveled at our little buddy's will to live. The determination to make it. But we both knew the end was very, very near. Nothing we could do. Helpless in the face of death. No mercy, indeed.
The owner had made an appointment at noon. The clock ticked down. The idea was to ease his transition. I put my hands on my little buddy's head, (his crown chakra) and silently mouthed a little prayer, wishing him safe passage to the other side. He looked at me with big, brown eyes. Silent. Always so silent. No whimpers. Nothing except his shallow breaths.
I picked up him and took him to the large, gray, Ford Explorer. A perfect vehicle for liftoff, transcendence. We looked at each other. His eyes locked on mine. I nodded, smiled, and closed the door. Goodbye old friend.
The A.M. Soundtrack - Patti Griffen's "American Kid." (2013). A gorgeous, acoustic guitar-based masterpiece. Griffen's "tribute to her late father." A superb collection of songs, every one heart-felt, powerful, beautiful, sad. Cody & Luther Dickenson (sons of the late great, legendary Jim Dickenson - remember the Rolling Stones "Wild Horses," Jim D. played the tack piano on that classic song) provide fabulous accompaniment. A perfectly played and sung album. One of the finest records ever recorded, every time I listen to it I am inspired and shattered, in a good way.
God is a wild old dog
Someone left out on the highway
I seen him running by me
He don't belong to no one now
Dropped him out on 93
Mange was setting in on his hips and on his knees
Between the highways running north and south
We pulled on over and we put him out
Willie said he was old and going blind
Momma told me how she didn't mind
When Willie kicked him with his shoe
He just climbed on in just like he knew
God is a wild old dog
Someone left out on the highway
I seen him running by me
He don't belong to no one now
It's lonely on the highway
Sometimes a heart can turn to dust
Get whittled down to nothing
Broken down and crushed
In with the bones of
Wild old dogs
Wild old dogs
Dropped him out on 93
Tall grass was waving there just like the sea
He tore off running like we set him free
Just disappeared right in front of me
God is a wild old dog
Someone left out on the highway
I seen him running by me
He don't belong to no one now
He don't belong to no one now
Patti Griffen
