Psychiactric Service Dog
He never wore a harness or a cape , but he was as much a saver of my sanity as Tagg or any PSD….and the day he died in my lap is as much with me as it was a year ago yesterday…
Presumed Cool was never much of racer for a greyhound…he won perhaps a quarter or a third of his races. But the day he came to me is still one of my happiest memories. Greyhounds seem to be so silent at home, but he was the noisiest at the adoption kennel at the KC Woodlands track. He saw me as I came in, and insisted that I notice him… I had wanted a bitch, but this huge dog of shining black silk, dancing in the confines of his tiny crate, kept calling to me….and came home with me.
The trip to the track is a long, 100+ miles. I stopped along the way to pick up something to eat, and fed Cool as he stood with his satin head on my shoulder as we drove home. And this is how he was for the seven years he was with us…a silent presence of black satin and silk at my side.
My favorite memories of Cool are of going out with him into the yard at night…for some reason he loved to have me watch him ‘race’-clockwise!-around the yard. So off into the dark he would streak, and I’d hear the disturbance of the leaves, but no more…then from out of the night would flash a shining blackness, sliding to a stop before me, laughing up at me, tail waving high and fast, until he flew off again…
In his 11th summer, he began to have more trouble with what I had been told was a common complaint of greys….vomiting. But he seemed to get over it after a few days, and be fine….until the bouts began to come more often, and his weight began to drop off. The vet suggested worming, and various treatments but nothing worked. Finally, I took him in yet again….and after feeling, and going over him carefully, the news was that he had a tumor blocking the exit from the stomach, preventing food from going further. And because he was far below the minimum weight for operating on a grey….the options were nil…. I was sitting on the floor with him already, and talking and singing to him as I listened to the vet. He never noticed the prick, since he was having bits of his favourite cheese and listening too me singing the dancing dog song to him as he slid into my lap ,licking the last bits from my fingers….falling asleep.
Black satin, black silk…sailing through the night…
A silken smile in the dark….a satin flash that is gone too soon…
Black dog….dancing in the dark, dancing in the dark.
God sent you to me to teach me how to love and let go …
….but too soon, too soon.
At night, there are still echoes of
your silent dance of
the night…
Still the gleam of your shining coat
as you raced night
wind and owl
A flash of your laughing face, as you invited me to race.
with you….
To join you in your joyous celebration
of your love ,life and
speed….
A gleam, a glimmer, and too soon you were gone….
My beautiful dog of black satin and silk, speed and joy
My dancing dog, dancing in the night…
****************
I am too slow to keep up…please
God, He will give you back
to me at the end….
Presumed Cool
1990-2001
P.G.Nichols Nov.10,2002
Dancing in the Dark.
….’Do all good dogs want to dance’, I’d ask,
As you spin and whirl before the door.
‘Good dogs are going out to dance on all of your toes?’
Laughing eyes say, ’How can you ask? Of course I do!’
….The darkness hides your steps,
Until …..Out the door you fly,
To find the nearest breeze to partner.
You bow, then rise up to join the dance.
‘What is it today? A minuet? A waltz?
‘Freeform, how else does one dance with the wind?’
the dance brings me a glance
Of satin, of silk, a gleam in the night.
The wind sighs the music, your paws keep the time,
And only the owl will see you tonight.
…..’Time to come home’, I call to the dark.
‘One more waltz’, comes your silent reply.
A flash of black fire passes me in the night,
A whisper of sound…then you fade from my sight…
Presumed Cool,
My beautiful dancing dog.
1990-2001
P.G.Nichols
My beautiful dancing dog, I love you....
| Presumed Cool |
| 11, Nov 2001 |
| Gail Nichols |