Puddock Hill Journal #15: Reflections on Nature After the Passing of a Dog
Yesterday, we put down our beloved French bulldog, Piebald, who loved life more than life loved him. Minutes earlier, he sat for his last portrait:
Frenchies, as some may know, were originally bred to lie in the laps of lacemakers and draw the fleas away from the linen thread. While he loved jumping up on the couch and cuddling, Pie refused to confine himself to lapdog pleasures.
All of 22 pounds in a compact frame, he would chase squirrels and fetch tennis balls. He would run down to the pond at the slightest temptation, sometimes during his pre-bedtime walk, and lumber up the hill twenty minutes later, panting and mud-covered and looking quite satisfied with himself.
Sometimes he’d crash into the pond—fortunately, never in water over his head—and take the opportunity to hunt bullfrogs in a manner that gave the frogs 100 percent chance of successful escape.