Post-Post Mortem

I created this blog to honor my dog when I knew I was losing him. My intent was to write only one post, his tribute, on February 22, 2011. Then, when he passed away this past Saturday, 3/26, I could not bear the thought of entertaining multiple questions about how he was doing, so I posted notice of his death and a link to it on Facebook. I guess that’s what they call “ripping the bandaid quickly,” though it’s been more of a slow tear. Not everyone is on Facebook, and not everyone has read my posts. Yesterday, Monday, for example, one of the secretaries at my school noticed me crying. I had to explain, and explanations turned into hysterics. And today, by total coincidence, at the end of my day, one of my students asked how my dog was, and I had to say the words aloud: “I actually had to put him to sleep on Saturday.” I didn’t cry just then, though, because I didn’t want to make him feel bad. I thanked him for asking and told him it is “hard,” and then I cried the whole car ride home.

I have decided to keep up with this blog. I need somewhere to put the pain and the experience of life without Huan. Maybe no one will read it. And that is OK. What matters is that I need to write it. And maybe people will read it and think, “He was just a dog.” And that’s OK, too. My response, if I felt inclined to give one, would be that those people probably don’t have a dog. Dog owners don’t say “just a dog” because they know two things, first and foremost: 1. They no more own a dog than they own their family. 2. A relationship with a dog is man’s greatest exercise in humility. An honest comparison of species renders man just human.

More importantly, I would say to those people that they surely have never known Huan.