For whom the tail wags

Cedar, the greatest dog who ever dogged, has completed her work here on Earth and crossed the rainbow bridge to the plane of stardust, bacon and unlimited squeaky tennis balls.

Cedar got a lot done in her short, though actually relatively long, time here.

She was a comedian of the highest caliber. She was a lover not a fighter. Although, occasionally she was a fighter, and was the noble and proud victor in tussles with a very slow-moving car, a nutria in the James River, a baby squirrel, a baited fish hook, two plastic dog bowls, dozens of imaginary bad guys at the door and countless squeak toys.

Cedar gracefully bore the clumsy adoration of young children who grew up to love her, appreciate her and learn responsibility and tenderness from her.

Cedar helped with the dishes and the mopping, and thoughtfully reinforced the softness of every surface in every room she entered with a thick cushion of fur. She was only trying to help.

Cedar was an excellent, and by excellent I mean exceedingly attentive, dinner companion. She was a good listener.

Cedar could keep a secret: I asked her every day who was a good puppy, but she never told.

Cedar had not one but two theme songs, which clearly makes her the hero of the picture.

Cedar was a diligent sentry. No letter or flyer delivered to a home she inhabited has ever gone unbarked at. I’m confident that her sleeping through a stranger sneaking into our apartment was intentional, so that I could have a good story. Cedar was one of the few wonders under the sun better than a good story.

Cedar was an adventurer, intrepidly peeing in 16 states and the District of Columbia. She appreciated beauty, and was especially fond of the soft trails of the Olympic National Forest and the beaches along the Oregon coast. She was an enthusiastic partner for adventures on trails of all kinds, from mountain bike parks to snowshoe tracks.

She was an eclectic eater who frequently supplemented her kibble with jerky, paper towels, empty food containers on the street and snails. Ever the gourmet, she loved crunching on a tasty garden snail on our morning walks.

Cedar was an excellent roommate, always doing her share of chores, seldom making messes and always cleaning up spills. She was an excellent officemate, too, keeping her human’s feet warm during long periods at the desk and enforcing healthy breaks at regular intervals.

Cedar was a good friend to her human family, to her human friends, to her little brother Rambo, and to the many two- and four-legged people she encountered throughout her life. She was widely beloved and loved all, except dachshunds. She apparently knew something disturbing about dachshunds that she was too polite to talk about.

Cedar loved jerky and walkies and playing chase, and pursued those interests until the day she died. Just this past week she covered several miles, killed an entire bag of bacon jerky and played an epic game of chase. She bounced like a bunny rabbit until her very last afternoon.

Who was a good puppy? Cedar.


About pantsinspace

I'm an inch deep and a mile wide. Not literally. But literarily, sure.
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