06/01/09 My dog Polly died last week. I thought I’d wait awhile before writing anything about her in order to do so unemotionally.  But that’s a ridiculous thought since that day will never come.

Polly was a Black Lab. She lived to be 16 years old. So she was an old, old dog. Towards the end, she had trouble walking. We had to carry her up and down stairs. Her eyes were milky with cataracts and I’m pretty sure she was deaf. She was nonetheless always a very happy dog and she made the people around her happy.

I’ve probably taken thousands of pictures of her. Here are just three. When she was a pup, I’d make her sit for a photo and she’d jump straight up at the lens when she heard the shutter click. I shouldn’t have laughed the first time she did this because it became a game to her.

My Dad used to say that dogs are great teachers. They expertly teach the virtues of loyalty and unconditional love. They show us the power of Play. Finally, heartrendingly, they teach us that life is very short and has to be lived to the fullest.

Goodbye friend.