This is a tribute to a very special friend of mine: Emma, a lovely lady Labrador retriever who was my best friend and companion for almost twelve years. Even though she has been gone for several years now and has got a successor in Signe (pron. SING-neh) the mini schnauzer, I will always remember her and she will always live in my heart. |
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Emma loved people - especially the "Grandma" race, elderly ladies in pale coats -
and even though she greeted them in a more well-behaved
way as an grizzled old lady than she did in her younger days, she always
wanted to say a happy, tail-wagging hello to everyone she met, without exceptions. When
it came to other dogs, however, she became a tad racist over the years; she
loved large dogs, especially other retrievers (not to mention other
Labs), but small dogs, sized Corgi and smaller in general and Dachshunds
in particular, she could definitely do without.
Labradors are a very hungry race, and Emma liked just about everything edible (by dog standards, that is, which don't necessarily correspond to the bland human taste) and she was especially fond of grapes and clementines. Ice-cream, all sorts of human candy and cream cheese were also very nice. Her own dog food could do as well - but I think she would have preferred our food, if we'd let her choose. |
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As a puppy, Emma was absolutely adorable - and absolutely wild, full of puppish
mischief and with needle-like teeth that she used to sharpen on me. For some
(to Emma very strange) reason, I didn't enjoy being used as a chew toy and I
didn't always appreciate it when Emma was in a playful mood - but she usually didn't particularly care about that...
Eventually, she grew up and settled down (which usually takes between five years and a life-time for a Lab), and became a serene, elderly lady with an all gray nose and graying paws - but despite her gray hairs she remained young at heart, and could still go puppy-wild when she was really happy. |
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Like all Labs, Emma loved water. She could find water anywhere at any time;
if she suddenly she took off when you were out in the woods, you knew that she
could be found in the nearest watercourse, wet, muddy and very happy. She wanted to choose her water herself, though - she despised being showered (and showered she was, since she often brought the entire pond back home with her after a swim). A good shower could usually
tick her off for a whole fifteen minutes or so. Or until she got a little snack.
In the summers, when the family was at our cottage in the Archipelago of Stockholm, she usually just wet her stomach in later years, but when she was younger she loved to swim and fetch things - anything, from sticks to seagulls. (The gulls wouldn't let her, though.) In other words: a Lab down to her webbed feet. |
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When it snowed, Emma became young again. She rolled, crawled, slid and romped around, always seeming to have the time of her life... |
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The Power of the Dog |
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There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; But when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more! Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a puppy and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie- Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear. When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumor, or fits, And the vet's unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find -- it's your own affair, But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear When the body that lived at your single will, When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still), When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone -- wherever it goes -- for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart to a dog to tear! We've sorrow enough in the natural way, When it comes to burying Christian clay. Our loves are not given, but only lent, At compound interest of cent per cent. Though it is not always the case, I believe, That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve: For when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-term loan is as bad as a long. So why in Heaven (before we are there!) Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear. (Rudyard Kipling) |
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