The Black Dog

Black dog... Black Eyed Dog... for the late Nick Drake, it was - possibly - the Death itself... for me and my wife, a black dog was... pure Love!

Yesterday evening we brought our pup Chicco to the doctor for a check-up, after it got an infection after some insect biting or something...

We arrived at the veterinary and found a mess... a stray cat hitted by a car, a female Aussie sheep dog checking up after a surgery and... "that" black dog...

It was maybe 10 years old or so... its master was a tattooed guy with huge, dark sunglasses and... the dog mouth was COMPLETELY, wildly "wrong": wide, bloody, thick and... nasty, distorted looking.

We asked about that so heavy disease and we learned it was a sort-of mouth cancer which was literally plaguing the poor black, old suffering pup...

Nonetheless and despite the pain it sure felt, the ill dog was still "playing" as a dog... smelling, peeing, being curious and tail shaking ALL the time... and it was thirsty, as well... it drunk and it left some blood in the bowl.

Painful...

I was bemused, and deeeeeeeply moved and saaaad, as its eyes were soooo beautiful and quiet and sweeeeet... the guy and his young wife with a new-born child were ALL very warm and near to the black dog...

When, after half an hour, the doctor called for the dog, we - finally - understood it... stop being so silly... HE, the black dog, entered the ambulatory to get a pitiful, poisonous shot to alleviate HIS pain and illness, at last...

Me, my wife, the guy... we all were in tears, as the poor, old dog get HIS shot in vein and HE moaned and lamented HIMSELF...

Shortly after, HE quietly, SOOO dignitously walked at HIS master side, in the lawn behind the doctor's ambulatory... he peed and smelled and drunk... for the last time, ever...

It was a VEEEERY sad evenience, folks... I remember I looked at HIM in HIS eyes when HE was still on his poor, battered, suffering legs... then, some moments after, I saw HIM in HIS master's arms, still, but still with the life fire in HIS poor, now much quieter eyes... HIS weird, ill-fated and badly distorted mouth was... YES, HE was smiling to me... I'm sure HE did so...

I was in tears again, while my wife, with Chicco at her side, never stopped sighing in these infinitely looooong minutes... it was the passion of the Black Dog...

I had an emotive short-circuit and I had to stop to look and to think to the whole matter... to someway self-protect me... BUT when I looked at the water bowl HE used only few moments before, with some blood in the water, like suspended... I was in sighing, painful tears again...

My wife, Chicco and myself, hadn't the temper and the strength to wait for the end of the passion... I loaded the car of wife and dog and... after only few minutes we were in the countryside, looking for some fresh air and confort in the evening crickets singing and beautiful sundown...

A VERY deep experience, it was, folks... what I saw in this poor dog passing away and HIS eyes wasn't angriness, nor pain, neither sadness... I saw ALL the love he got from people who loved HIM, in life as in the last moments of HIS life...

... and, I swear: he smiled to me and to the world... a weird, distorted, bloody teeth, BEAUTIFUL smile... and Love was pouring from him and still does now, as I'm writing, in tears - right now - and I'm honouring HIM and the miracle of Love between Man and our beloved Pets.

... I loved you, dear, when you smelled my knee with your wet, poor nose, while entering the doctor ambulatory for the VERY last time and when I caressed your hairy back-bone.

R.I.P. dear, beloved pup...