Syrah The Mighty Is Gone

Syrah the Mighty is gone.

She was diagnosed with  Hemangiosarcoma - cancer of liver/spleen, something that apparently can come to terminal stage rather quickly.  She had been acting a bit out of sorts - lots of getting up and having to go out at night recently, and then today when The Ravishing Mrs. TB got home, she was simply laying in the hallways, her breakfast uneaten.  Something was obviously up.

She was a good dog.

She lived with us for almost 8 years, from July of 2008.  She was a rescue and initially much bigger (and more powerful) of a dog than any of us expected.  But she was perfect with Na Clann - never in all the years we had her did she ever growl or bite them, no matter how much they loved her or rolled on her head.  If it got too much, she simply got up and moved to be somewhere else.

A devourer of all things food, she was relentless in her pursuit of it, constantly lurking about waiting for something to drop  (who will I share my apples with now?).  Her ability to hear the sound of the refrigerator opening - from any room of the house - was almost psychic.  She was a great defender of the home as well, barking if anyone walked by or up to the door (and probably moving more than one solicitor on to the next house).

She delighted in chasing squirrels in the yard although she never caught one, developing a technique whereby she would walk up to the back door as if she wanted to be let in, then suddenly turning and running back to chase the squirrel which had foolishly decided to come down as she was (apparently) going it.

I will miss her.  She was my constant companion around the house during the day, always interested in what you were doing (especially hoping you had food).  Sometimes I had to stop doing Iai because she would walk right into the line of my draw, looking for a pet.  She loved her walks at night, constantly driving me to distraction when she had to stop and sniff virtually everything destroying any chance I had of actually getting an aerobic workout.

I keep turning to my left even now to the dog bed by the desk, where I keep expecting to see her curled up in a ball.

Nighean Dhonn made an observation as we waiting there after she had fallen asleep, noting "It is lucky that it is Easter weekend so that we can remember about death and resurrection."  Would that I could think of such a profound statement in a moment of sorrow.

Godspeed Syrah. We will meet again someday.