Treacle Tuesday # 1: Brownie-Bear

Welcome to Tuesday. I have created a challenge for this day of the week that I call Treacle Tuesday. Its my vehicle for honouring the most precious and cherished things in my life ~ people. Why treacle? Well, because it comes from the Latin word for antidote to poison. And because of its sweetness ~ as the by-product of sugar refinement. I've come to realize, in my heart of hearts, that I need to remember and honour the people that have graced and blessed my life, in the past and in the present. To always hold so close to my heart and soul the graces and blessings that enrich my life and have molded me into myself ~ that's a real antidote to the poison of negative energy. And, so ... here's the first Treacle Tuesday post.

My pets, of course, they're animals. But, they're each, always, also people ~ full-fledged family members. And, so, this week I honour the last of our Afghan Clan ~ the end of an era. The painting below ~ commissioned by me after his death ~ was done by Laura Pelick.

Dear Brownie Bear;

We cried for you, when you had to go, to that place where we could not follow. We felt so blessed to share life and love and everything in between for the 10 years you lived. We really called you Blazer, after a favourite vehicle that I drove shortly before we brought you home. I'll never forget that day, in November of 1996, when we drove to Fargo, ND from our home in Winnipeg, with the two kids and the two Afghan Hounds we already had in tow, in our Chevy Suburban.

Daddy got a speeding ticket on that trip. Its hard to believe your small size then, when I reminisce about your early life. You had taken a very long flight from Connecticut, where your breeder lives. You came from the Dragonfly kennel. Your pedigree lists your name as Dragonfly Lawrence of Arabia. I love that movie, Lawrence of Arabia, and that's why we chose that as your registered name.

I smile and laugh to myself, when I think what a cocky little pup we brought home from the Fargo airport. You loved to pick on Gitane, tug on her long, black coat with your sharp teeth. And you also took to sleeping in Gypsy's kennel. Surprisingly, he allowed you. I remember with such fondness, the time when he came to his kennel, to lie down, and found you, curled up in a tiny red, fur-ball, at the very front of his kennel. He very gently and carefully stepped into the kennel without disturbing you, turned himself around, and sat down, in that sphynx-position. How precious!

We cherished you in your later days, especially because of your status as the last Afghan remaining. You tolerated so well the move to Vancouver, in the cab of a U-Haul truck, with three humans sitting on the bench seat, and yourself scrunched on the floor of the passenger's side of the cab. You, a big, fully grown Afghan Hound by then, had to share foot space with Logan and me. We rode like that for 33 hours ... all the way to the westcoast. You adapted to apartment-living so well. What a good dog! You understood everything we said to you ... you never begged when you saw us eating our meals ... and you never ran away when we let you offleash at the Kitsilano Dog Beach.

We love you always, Brownie. You gave us so much. And we feel so much joy at the blessing of your life, devotion and love. RIP. I know you live on, beyond the veil. I feel your spirit in the wind around me, sometimes. I shall hold a place in my heart for you. That's where you live ... forever.

Love,

Mummy