FOR A FRIDAY EDITION, WE LOOK BACK NOT FAR, BUT ALSO AT EMOTIONS OF THE PRESENT

EDITION OF FRIDAY, APRIL 11, 2025 [PetPowellPress] Ah, Dear Readers, I know you'll probably relate to this situation.
And if this edition reads like I'm taking time off, then you've read it exactly as intended. Just one shift -- that's all I'm intending to take off.
But here's what has happened.
A couple of weeks after she left us, I'm still mourning Porche Noel, my dog. I have mourned before for dogs and cats but this one is sticking to me a little longer. [LARRY NOTE: As these photos show, we were pals. In the first one she's asking me to order a pizza, and in the second she is smiling sweetly at my having picked her favorite pizza for us to share. That's how I remember it, anyway. Back to the topic....]
This odd lingering of sadness did not happen with me and my beloved Inky the Cocker Spaniel, though my tenderspouse Martha swears I was in the darkest funk for a while.
No dog or cat passes through my life without a mourning that, as near as I can tell, is stored in my brain and can be called up at any moment by a memory or a comment or spotting an old photograph.
This time it's different. I'm deeply moved by the loss of my Office Dog & Supportive Friend Porche Noel.
How do I know? There are signs. I keep turning to check on her in her bed behind my chair in the office. It's empty. I've sometimes begun to prepare 3 dishes of dog food when only Dudley the Angel and Wendy Louise Wagstaff Arden are showing up for canine breakfast.
But here was one of the toughest moments and it hit me as I was driving about 8 miles between a filling station and the ATM at a neighbor- hood bank.
I punched a button on the car radio and heard some early lines in the Jerry Jeff Walker song Mr. Bojangles as performed by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.
I listened a few lines, enjoying every note and word, and then suddenly I'm hearing this part of the song about Mr. Bojangles:
"He spoke with tears of fifteen years
How his dog and him traveled about
The dog up and died, he up and died
After twenty years he still grieves....."
And at that point I punched the off button and, yep, I thought I was going into a full-on sob at 60 MPH while thinking about Porche Noel.
Never experienced that before ...
So, as I post this revelation I wanted to do two things:
(1) Tell you, Dear Readers, what happened and
(2) Ask anybody if there's a way other than "wait it out" to get past this situation.
I miss her barking. The irony is, when we rescued her after she was either dumped by or escaped from a puppy mill, Porche could not bark -- she could only rasp. That went on for several years. Other dogs stopped barking to look at her with "What thuh?" looks on their faces.
I think, at the end, as she was drifting away, she wanted to rasp one more time for old time's sake. I'm pretty sure I saw her smile.
We knew the end was coming, but, alas, my dog "up and died." And I'm trying to cope.
Thanks for listening, Dear Readers. Got any theories of coping, email [email protected].
So we'll see you this weekend when once again we present Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap. Tell your critters you love 'em. Thanks, Larry