Einstein
My friend died three weeks ago. I didn’t know him for very long— less than two years, but he was a big part of my days. He was funny and goofy and one of those friends who smiled every time he saw me. Gregarious and outgoing, he never met a stranger. He greeted the mailman, the neighbors, my dog, and everyone else he met with same unbridled enthusiasm and zest for life. He was athletic. He loved to run, jump, and wrestle. He loved to eat and drink and if there was a party, then he was the life of it. His energy was infectious. His zeal was boundless. I didn’t see his death coming.
If you haven’t guessed it by now, my friend was a dog. His name was Einstein.
***
I was on a trip when I got a text from Kelly that said, “You are going to freak out when you get home. Guess what Rose and John did?”
I knew right away. “They got a puppy?”
As soon as I got home, I walked over to meet the new puppy with beef liver treats in hand. And we were besties from that point forward.
***
Shortly after Einstein moved in, Locket had a conversation with her pet psychic, Elizabeth. We hadn’t told Elizabeth anything about Einstein’s arrival, but we were not surprised when she asked, “Did your neighbors get a puppy?” We answered affirmatively and Elizabeth continued, saying that Locket was very happy to have a new friend and that Locket said that Einstein was a “doodle max.”
He was max in all good ways— maximum poodle curls, maximum joy, maximum enthusiasm… you get my point. As a result of his maximum-ness he offered me a chance to be maximum myself— loving, playful, enthusiastic, and maximally delighted at small encounters and simple pleasures. I think that’s the thing about dogs— I get to glimpse a side of me unworried about rejection, free of social anxiety, and able to play, love, and relate at a maximum level.
***
I took Einstein on field trips for pup cups, on Sniffspot adventures with Locket and he and I had even started running together. He was a quick learner—smart, eager to please, and food-motivated. He got the hang of staying close right away. He was a joy on the trail. I could go on about the mundane and meaningful adventures we shared. And while I have too many memories to name, suffice it to say he was a source of ongoing joy in the midst of the stresses and strains of modern life.
***
I miss Eisntein. I wish he was still here. The cul de sac is not the same without him on his front porch checking everyone and everything out. My days are not quite as vibrant without him around. Of course, all dogs go to heaven so I like to think of him in the Elysian Fields somewhere chasing squirrels, chewing on whatever he could get a hold of, and smiling. (Yes, he always greeted me with a big toothy grin.) I am grateful to have known such a special creature and to have memories of our moments stored deep in my heart.
***
Death ends the incarnation, but not the life of a being. Don’t get me wrong, I know his physical life is over, but his spirit lives on through memories and stories. And while he is irrepaceable, I do hope his parents get another dog one day. And when they do, Auntie Christina will be the first to visit with liver treats and squeaky toys in hand. In the meantime, I will pour my caring more deeply into Locket and my other dog friends. I will honor his zest for life by giving myself some freedom to roam, to delight in the green grass, to explore the forest, and to be as maximum as possible.
RIP, Einstein.
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