Goodbye

A few weeks ago I had to say goodbye to my best friend.  I have not really been able to write about it 

until now, and as I think about it, my eyes fill with tears.

How strange is this relationship we build with another species, an animal that is so different from us 

in so many ways, but also so similar.  That we can love so deeply, as much or even more than we love others of our own species, and that is able to love us back just as deeply, although we make so many mistakes in our relationships with him.  That bonds to us and tolerates our various stupidities and lack of understanding, although they understand us so well.  The only other species that by choice prefers to live with us rather than with his own kind.

Habibi and I bonded from the moment we looked into each other's eyes, when he was a tiny puppy of two months old.  We trusted each other implicitly; we were always there to support one another.  We communicated in many ways; Habibi understood me without the need for words, and I tried to understand him as well as he understood me.

We did almost everything together.  He accompanied me to the classes I taught and sat next to me, keeping discipline with his penetrating gaze.  We worked together with nose work and searching, things that he really loved doing, and he taught me so much about the marvelous abilities of a dog's nose and about persistence and determination.  He liked to play, and would retrieve and do various tricks, but only a few times – enough, beneath his dignity to behave like a border collie.

He was a show dog and became a champion.  This was not an activity that he liked, but he put up with it for my sake, and ignored the commotion and the many other dogs around, though he really didn't understand why I wanted to do this or have him touched by strangers.  But he trusted my decisions and was always ready to cooperate.

He was very discriminating.  There were few people that he really considered to be his friends.  He was polite to most, after giving them a warning that they were in his territory now and they had better watch their manners.  There were a few that he disliked at first glance, and he did his best to protect me from them, standing in front of me and warning them off.  He could look very ferocious when he was standing at the gate and defending his territory – but he never, in his life, attacked anyone.  He didn't need to, no one wanted to see if he was really serious.

The only person he ever bit was my good friend Isabella.  I had to leave the dogs with her for several days after moving to Italy, when I had to take a trip home.  The dogs had only known her for a few days, and when she came to take Habibi out of his crate, his own familiar sleeping place, he looked at her, nipped the hand reaching for his collar, and clearly said, "Who are you and what right do you have to do this?"  Isabella understands Canaans very well and is a very good communicator, and within minutes, the two came to an agreement of cooperation. Isabella became Habibi's best friend after me, he adored her and would act like a silly puppy with her.

Many people knew him and admired him.  He taught many people what a Canaan dog is in truth.  They felt honored when he agreed to accept their petting.

He was my bed dog.  He was not spoiled or pampered, and spent his first years with me sleeping in his basket next to the bed.  But when I was waiting to go into hospital for an operation, and was very stressed, he decided that the time had come to give me more comfort and he moved on to the bed.  When I returned from the hospital, uncomfortable and sore, he stayed on the bed curled up close.  And from then on, his place was in bed with me, usually curled at my feet, but at times pressed against me.  There is nothing more comforting than a dog in bed…

He was the top dog.  He didn't have to demonstrate it, everyone knew it.  He was respected by the other dogs.  He was wonderful with puppies, very patient and tolerant, but able to correct their behavior with just the right amount of display without ever hurting or frightening them. 

There is so much more that could be said about this dog who was my companion for 11 years, through good times and bad, through changes that we never could have anticipated, and he coped with everything with dignity.  There are many stories about him in this blog.

He was only a dog, so when he started to develop symptoms of the disease that took his life, he went on trying his best to function, without complaint.  When his body betrayed him, his mind remained clear and our bond remained as strong as ever.  We communicated with our eyes, until finally he closed his and went quietly to sleep.

The other dogs felt his loss deeply.  They are still looking for him.   For me, he holds a place in my 

heart that will be his forever.

Feel free to share.