Our dear boy Canter left us this morning. He is loved and missed dearly by his family.
Cruelly taken from us by that dreaded scourge osteosarcoma, Canter was a shy boy, slow to bond, but truly blossomed after we moved to this house with a view in Vernon, B.C. However, we never got him to enjoy car rides, even though at the word ‘car?’ he got tremendously excited. The anticipation was better than the realization! And he was never a ‘jogger’ either, much preferring, on walks, to ‘read the newspaper’.
He loved his life here with us, I do believe, and expressed his joy the greyhound way with leaps, bounds, spins and twirls, delighting us endlessly.
He was a dog with a huge repertoire of communication skills. Barking of course, but this was usually employed to alert us to a food item of interest nearby. Unless we were quick to respond it was ‘bye bye butter’ (oops! Frightful worries over possible pancreatitis) and, once, a large cut of raw beef! Fortunately the beef was mostly frozen so not a huge amount was consumed, but it did mean buying a new roast for the guests!
And then there was the teeth rattling and clacking, and the snorts, snuffles, sort of pig like ‘oinks’ almost. And of course if any or all of the above had not got our attention it was the slipper game: fetch and toss any available shoe but mostly my sheepskin slippers. We were chivvied through his daily routine thus, (how he loved his routine) of outings, meals etc with all of the above techniques, and probably others too. Canter, the great communicator. Such a good boy, nothing ever chewed up, not his much loved stuffies (squeaky squirrel, squeaky carrot, rubber dumbbell, he ran and ran around the lawn chomping and squeaking madly), not even my slipper. He always ate his biscuits and treats in the same place, a mat on the living room carpet. So many memories which have to sustain us.
Canter our boy, claimed too soon, I know you are waiting, healed and whole once more, and we’ll meet again. ‘Til then, always in our hearts and thoughts.
‘Mum’ and ‘Pop’
We who surround ourselves with lives much shorter than our own
live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.
Yet, we would live no other way, and cherish memories as the only true immortality.