Squirrel?

We shared some wonderful stories about Hardy last night, my daughter, my son, and me. It was my son’s birthday, and it was noticeable without Hardy. There were several relatives in our home, and it seemed as though everyone noticed that they were greeted by only one dog, instead of the usual two. We didn’t talk about it until everyone left.

The most noteworthy story illustrates what we call in our family, “the screw loose” syndrome. We use this phrase when we describe an innate behavior that can’t be controlled. For Hardy, the screw loose scenario would happen when anyone would say one little word: squirrel. It didn’t matter how loud, it didn’t matter where he was, it didn’t matter what he was doing (including sleeping), and it didn’t matter who said it – if someone said the word squirrel, Hardy would become alert, excited, and energetic.

My son’s friends found it entertaining to watch the screw loose condition take place, and they didn’t miss an opportunity to make it happen at the most ridiculous times. Last night, my son told a story about Hardy being in a deep sleep, and the boys started talking about squirrels. Hardy woke up, shook his head, and stood at attention awaiting the excitement of chasing a squirrel. My son recounted how he recently informed one of those boys about the tragedy. His friend replied in a melancholy way, “No more squirrel.”

I don’t know if there is an afterlife, especially for dogs. I do know that if there is a special place after death where a soul of a dog is allowed to thrive, in Hardy’s place, there would be many squirrels.