saying goodbye

"if we're under nuclear attack, we're following burt. she's a survivor." -alex













i first spent quality time with burt about six years ago.
alex and i had just started dating, and he
was skiing and needed me to watch her.
i thought she was sweet as could be
and wanted to take burt on a walk to er and mer's house.
i wasn't a fan of the medieval choke collar alex used on her,
so i put it on inside out so as not to 'hurt' her.
we set out, and i don't feel i am exaggerating when i say
there were moments i was being dragged at what felt like horizontally along the ground.
burt barged into the hayes' home and proceeded
to lick the entire contents of their oven.
on the way home, she ate roadkill twice.
in short, she lived up to her reputation.


alex inherited burt from a roommate, and has been with her
since she was four weeks old. frank wanted to get rid of her after
she chewed through the cable wire for the second time, and alex
was more than happy to take her.
she made that whole 'marely and me' book seem like child's play .
if you came from home from work and left again,
be prepared to find her head buried in a bag of flour with flour dust billowing everywhere,
or better yet, she'll eat the fabric off your couch.
want to leave burt in the backyard?
that's fine, but she'll eat through the fence and be waiting for you on the front porch.

but for all of the humor and frustration she gave us in her almost fourteen years of life,
she also gave us love and steadfast companionship a million times more.
alex spent his entire adult life with burt as his partner in crime,
gazing at him in admiration.
when he left for work,
burt stood by the front door with her head cocked to the side until he returned.
she was the eternal optimist, always convinced adventure lay ahead. she loved being by the water,
was an excellent fishing and hunting partner,
and just wanted to be by our side.

we said goodbye to burt on monday,
and heartbreaking doesn't even begin to cover it.
the pineapple and bell pepper hutch dropped during lunch today is still there,
a reminder she's gone, since that would never happen with her here.
i didn't realize how much presence and noise she was responsible for in the house until now,
it is far too quiet. we just miss her. a lot.
i know not everyone is a dog fan, but if you are, you know how
difficult this grief can be. she gave alex, myself, hutch, and elsa, so much love,
and devo owes any canine confidence he has obtained to her.

we had her cremated, because if any of you knew burt at all, you know she wouldn't want to be left behind, and we want to put her to rest in montana after we move.

so, raise a glass to our gal. burt is one-of-a-kind, cannot be replicated, and i trust she is now alternating the activities of running through streams and frequenting all-you-can-eat-buffets. because that's who she is.

i already am sad thinking of hutch's little verbal -isms,

knowing he won't always have 'me' and 'you' confused, refer to himself in third person,

and things of that nature. it is for that reason i feel the need to document his sayings as of late.

**before he could really express himself, he used to leave the room if he was doing something he knew he shouldn't, believing i wouldn't notice if he happened to continue that behavior in the dining room as opposed to the kitchen. now, however, he has started adding 'just' before describing any behavior that could result in consequences, as if to diminish the severity of his actions.

for example:

me: "hutch, what are you playing with?"

h: "just da computer." replace computer with any hands-off item to get the idea.

**rather than saying yes or 'no, 'thank you,' he has begun saying 'probably,' or 'probably not' when offering his preference on things.

**and then there are the conversations like this one today,:

me:sure is sunny today...

h:uhhhh, no, it's not.

me: hmm, really? is it raining?

h: oh, no, no, you think it's not.

me: oh, then what is the weather?

h: pants.

hmmmm.

there are many, many more, but you get the idea. two really is a wonderful, strange age.