Hello Killian

“Come down outta that tree and fight!” (iPhone photo by BobbaLew.)

—Off to Lehigh Valley RailTrail, yet again to say hello to Killian, who’s ashes lay trailside.
I’ll stop at the marker, say hello to Killian, then tear up as usual.
Why am I still so heartbroken over losing this dog? (August 14th was two months ago.)
I really poured it on with Killian, and he loved it.
I walked him as much as I could, and let him run loose around my property — a dog-park without a pond.
“I see a squirrel out there,” and out he’d lunge.
Rabbits, squirrelies, deeries, birdies; all hot-pursuit.
And then there were chipmunks = “bite-size bundles of protein.”
I’d dissemble my back-steps so he could chase chipmunks.
“You see them cows, Big-Monkey?”
Up he’d get in the back of my car to tell off the cows.
“Get outta that pasture! Get off my planet!”
We became a team: me the eyes, he the ears and nose.
This was how it was supposed to be: eyes/ears/nose hunting, then “share-the-kill.”
I did that with my previous dog, but Killian made me try harder.
“Share-the-kill” was also letting him be my Prewash-Department.
Any plate/pan/dish that he licked off went into my dishwasher.
Others might not allow a dog to do that, but I’m still alive.
Killian also got me used to interacting with pretty girls.
“Oh what a pretty dog; can I pet him?”
He’d lean into them and start nuzzling.
“Here I am talking to yet another pretty girl.”
Anyone reading this knows how difficult my childhood was.
“No pretty girl will associate with you!” Killian reversed that.
So many pretty girls I’m no longer afraid of pretty girls.
I also learned to strike up a conversation, even with pretty girls. People love to talk, especially ladies, and especially pretty ones, who normally hafta fend off Trump wannabees.
Killian was my chick-magnet, and Lehigh Valley RailTrail was where we met so many pretty ladies.
I still go there alone. Some lady comes along, and I do what Killian woulda got me into. We smile and talk to each other.
“My dog’s ashes are up by that marker,” I say; “and I’m still heartbroken. I wouldn’t be talking to you but for that silly dog.”

• I never addressed Killian as “Killian;” always “Big-Monster” or “Big-Monkey,” since he was so energetic. Gone at age-11 (cancer always wins).