The title of this series, “Hallelujah Bye and Bye” is from the song, “I’ll Fly Away” which is one of my favorite songs and is a song about parting from this world. This Farm update in 5 parts was written in the wee hours the night I heard that our beloved dog Watson had been hit by a car and killed. We were destroyed that night and are still quite upset. Watson was our first dog together and he saw us through a lot of life changes. He taught me so much of love and patience and his absence has taken a warm presence from our home that is keenly felt. Bear with me as I Eulogize our poor Watson here in the final segment of the farm update I wrote that night:
Last of all I want to mark the passing of our pet dog Watson whom I just found out a few hours ago was hit by a car and killed. We are away at a wedding as I write this and I received the phone call from our house sitter during dinner this evening. I had to leave the restaurant in tears, Lisa was devastated.
We bought Watson from the SPCA just over 3 years ago as practice for having a child which we did only after a year of having the dog. Watson was both frustrating and mightily beloved. I worked hours and hours to train that dog and for a beagle he was one of the best trained I have ever seen. He did not like other dogs, which was a pain in the butt when trying to walk him in the city. We were commenting just yesterday how fortuitous this trait became as he has been an uncanny guard dog down on the farm. Everyone said he would run away, as Beagles get on a scent and will run until they are lost, but he did not.
Watson sat on our stoop every day from morning until just after we locked the last of the birds up at dusk. He roamed in the Guineas herds and did not nip at them, he shepherded the ducks into their gate with me when he saw I was struggling. He saved the Geese from a Pit bull attack and saved all the birds from who knows how many attacks from wild animals. It is as if he knew what we needed on the farm and despite his breed and traits became the every-dog that we didn’t even realize would be one of our finest blessings so far.
He was also our house dog. Alston, who does not know yet, loves him dearly, hugs him often and is content to be with him in a room as he only is with us. I do not know what to say to our son, the word death is not known by him, to say he is gone for our two year old would imply he may return and the only words I have for Alston that he will understand is -Watson, my son , is broken.
Watson lay by the fire every night like a damned Rockwell painting and would crawl into his chair when he knew it was time for bed, ready to be out again in the morning to protect his new home. He smelled of red peanut skins and was soft and warm like lush velvet. He was killed on Esmont Rd. in front of our house just before dusk this January 15th 2011. No one stepped up to explain the accident, he was merely found.
I want to hold gun sites on that road I am so ravaged. I want to wreck and rage out all the dim, narrow lights that seem only to smolder so as to prod at the flash of those who intend to shine. But I am always making an adversary of the inevitable and in turn heaping mockery onto my own impotence. There is nothing I can blame here.
I never thought I would be so devastated by this occurrence. I loved that dog dearly, so precious in all his faults, ferocious in his loyalty to us as though we’d saved his life, not from the finality of death but from the living death, the deeper agony, despair. There was an urgency in his love for us that we never deserved but held sacred because it was given. I will miss him so dearly and utterly. Goodnight Watson, goodnight old boy, goodnight.