Gary, has lost his 14 year companion Emerson.

I first met Emerson when he was an enthusiastic puppy. Never was a more loveable dog, and no dog ever had a more attentive owner. When I had a “pup” of my own, the Oglet, we went to visit and Emerson, curious about the short newcomer, gently nosed in and stole the pacifier out of her mouth, his tail wagging so hard it stirred up dust bunnies in the shop as he ran around with his pink prize. The Oglet, far from being frightened (for nobody could be frightened of Emerson) clapped her hands and squealed with glee.

Emerson grew old gracefully, hips and back keeping him from chasing frisbees as he used to, but still active. Aside from a very few overseas trips, I don’t think Emerson and Gary were ever separated for more than a few hours at a time, they went everywhere together. Everytime the truck would stop, pull over, man and dog got out and watered the grass, looked at one another with appreciation of the job well done, and went about their business.
Apparently Emers went with no excessive pain and with full awareness of his surroundings, being held by the man who had been his constant companion all his life.

As I have often said before, if I die and I don’t come to the afterlife being greeted by all the dogs i knew in life, the Creator and I will have some WORDS.

because it’s getting hard for me to see to type, I leave you with what the Master said on the subject:

The Power of the Dog
by Rudyard Kipling

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 pup 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 that nature permits
Are closing in asthma or tumors or fits
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers, or loaded guns.
Then you will find–its 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 still 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 time 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?

Gary often asked me- and claimed it would be his one and only question for the Creator when his time on earth had passed-
“Why did God make dog’s lives so short?”

I can answer that for him now, without hesitation.

It’s to remind us how precious all life is.