We got Zeke in 1991. That was the year we first cooked a Thanksgiving dinner, had a couple friends over. The next year the three of us were in a larger apartment, and we had about 20 people over on Thanksgiving — B’s relatives, mine, friends and coworkers with no other plans. We did it every year for a long time.
It might have been Zeke’s favorite time of year: a stretch of four days with neither of us going to work, two dozen or more of his friends coming over to visit, pounds of surreptitious treats snuck to him under the table. After a few years, I managed to train him to beg only from B and me. At least while we were watching. I never quite got the guests trained, though, and Thursday evenings Zeke would be lolling groggily, belly comically distended, getting up only to ask me for more pie.
And then there were the bits of meat and cartilage for the next few days as B cleaned the turkey carcass. The bird was consistently a few pounds larger than the dinner itself required — funny how that always worked out — and for Zeke, the result was that the holiday was usually of true Old World “feast” magnitude, indulgence spreading over days.
By the year before last he had grown tired, and though he tried gamely on Thanksgiving 2005 he could barely cope with my niece’s focused adoration. Last year the invitations to Thursday’s dinner expressly included the reminder that it would be Zeke’s last. Neither he nor I had much interest in the guests, or in the dinner: we spent more time walking in the park than socializing. He still wanted the leftovers, though: I had the bittersweet joy of bringing them to him while he rested over the next few days.
And now, leftovers is all that remains of this holiday. Getting in the truck tomorrow morning and heading for the desert. See you when it’s over.
Thank you, Chris. So good to see Zeke’s handsome presence. Still so sorry that he’s gone.
Happy holidays to you.
—lurker Anne
beautiful pup, that Zeke!
last night i dreamed my Bunny girl came home.
despite all the missing, i am thankful for your wise words, Chris, and wish you and Becky a nice Thanksgiving.
You know, leftovers when stored properly and brought out with clear intention can be a great feast. You not only stretch out sustenance another day, if done right you can recall the events and beings at previous meals over the same food.
Blessings of Peace and Harmony to all.
You know, leftovers when stored properly and brought out with clear intention can be a great feast. You not only stretch out sustenance another day, if done right you can recall the events and beings at previous meals over the same food.
Blessings of Peace and Harmony to all.
Aw, rose. love to you.
He was so good. I know he’d just look at that turkey until it grew feathers again, but leave no question meanwhile that he was STARVING, and if you LOVED him, you would GIVE HIM SOME.
I know what you mean in that final paragraph, C, and I’m so sorry.
Wish I could say it will pass, but for me, it hasn’t - holidays are all different now. Gradually, it gets normal in the new arrangement of living, but never the same.
Great picture of Zeke! So well-fleshed and -furred!
Though he’s been gone more than ten years, I had a dream some months back that Ranger came home again. In the dream, I thought he’d died, but he’d just been lost. Woke up with happy tears.
Happy Thanksgiving to you, Chris, and to all your readers!
And let us all give thanks, in this special holiday season, for the miracle of Turducken.
laughing about never quite getting the guests trained. how could they resist those loving eyes, that thumping tail?
best to you and becky. and thistle—sending him some virtual treats.
Hi Chris,
It’s been ages since we’ve seen you and Becky. I came across your blog again and caught up on all your postings about Zeke. Still brings tears to my eyes….from memories both of Zeke and Kobi.
I wanted to let you know that we’re moving on Saturday. Richard and I are going to miss the people the most. And although we haven’t seen you in a while, we still talk about you guys when we happen to drive by your house.
We just wanted to wish the both of you well and say our “goodbyes”.
I hope time is healing your hearts.
Love,
Maria & Richard
(o)