M a t t h e w D a l l m a n

T h e  D a i l y  G o o s e
A r c h i v e

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

MICKEY, 1993-2003: My dog. A friend. She's been with me for almost ten years, through most of my interesting hairstyles. 6 cities, 10 different apartments, countless friends, several near-death experiences, innumerable chased squirrels. Hannah and I held her as she passed through her final breath this morning. Of course Spirit is unchangeable, unmutable, eternal, ever-present. But the opportunities to learn, grow, and laugh with those you love are to be cherished at every opportunity. I'm numb as I write this. At least Mickey was in no discernable pain these last two or so weeks, including today. At least she was more or less her vibrant self as the tumor ate at her spleen. At least she was all about love through the very end. I think she always just wanted to protect us, look after us, watch out for us as best she could. She trusted us, we trusted her. She was a dog. But that makes any kind of relationship all the more special, because crossing the language barrier twixt the species takes nothing but time. For all of you who knew Mickey, the sweetheart, you know what I'm talking about. She was the greatest. Again, she was a dog. But she was my good friend. And I miss her so much.
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matthew@matthewdallman.com

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