My dog for the last 13 years died tonight. He got hit by a car. Hit and run. He knew better than to go in the street. Maybe that’s the first time he ever did.
Well, it’s bad timing right now, that’s for sure. Exactly one week before the first anniversary of Nate’s death. Whatever.
Korky was his name. Korky the Yorky (because he was a yorkshire terrier, get it?). He was pretty cute. I’ll put up a picture later. When I was young and lived at my parents’ house, I was scared of the dark. Well, I still am. But not when I have somebody to sleep with. So Korky would always sleep with me. Sometimes, he slept at the top of my head. But when he got older, he didn’t like for people to bother him while he slept, so he slept at our feet.
He was pretty much known for greeting people at the door by licking their toes. Some people liked this…those people were gross. Most people didn’t. And we would just look at Korky, and be like, “No, Korky. You’re being gross.” And he would look up and tuck his tail between his legs and go pout on top of some pillows. He was very sensitive like that.
He got obsessed with taking over the pillows of the house when he broke his jaw one time (Don’t ask. It was an accident. We lived in a house with 3 boys. Other Korky injuries: he got rolled up in a window one time, and the boys used to have a game where they would throw him on the bed for fun…until he started having seizures because of it. Poor doggie. We always loved him, though.). Anyway, after he broke his jaw, we took him to the vet, and the vet decided this would be a good time to neuter him. ??? So the vet neutered him so he was in pain all over his body. We then fed him baby food with a spoon, and carried him around on pillows for a month. He used it for all it was worth, and I think dreamed of his moments of glory during that time for the rest of his life.
He was getting older. I saw him last night, maybe 30 minutes before he died. In fact, he ran out in the yard when I opened the door to leave. He was excited to see Jack and I, and we said “hi” but didn’t really notice him. He was, after all, 7 inches tall. But the day before yesterday, I succinctly remember thinking that would be one of the last times I would see him. He was laying on his back in the corner, and I rubbed his belly with my foot.
He always laid on his back in different parts of the house. This was, in fact, a bit problematic at times, because Jack would always notice his penis and want to go play with it. And, Korky the perv dog, relished in that, we think. Like I said, perv dog. So we had to keep an eye on Jack from playing with the dog’s penis. Lest you are thinking, “What about Jack the perv boy for wanting to play with the dog in such a way?” Well, it might as well have been a nose to Jack, he had no idea. And I don’t think we can call a 15 month old a pervert. So, in this case, Korky was the pervert. A beloved, dearly departed pervert. Ahem. Mmm-hmmm.
Anyway, I don’t want that to be the last thought of Korky. But he was a very good dog for so many years. I think of all the things he saw in my own life. Just reminds me, though I hadn’t forgotten, that death can just happen in an instant. That’s all it takes. And it will. Then I cried over him. Thanksgiving will be even more forlorn than it was going to be. Thanksgiving is starting to be equated with death in my eyes, and I think I’m going to skip it and make another holiday for myself during that time. Pity, I like the thought of giving thanks, but I’ll just do that not on bad death remembrance days.
Love you, Korky. I’m really sorry. Miss you. Maybe you are in Heaven and can talk now like animals were always supposed to be able to do, and like in CS Lewis’ “The Last Battle”. It makes me more sad that you’re gone.

By the way, click here for the pictures from our day at the farm. Melyssa beat me to it.