Roll over, Beethoven-- and R.I.P.

Beethoven was my mother's dog.  He was part English springer spaniel, part basset hound, and since he looked exactly like that St. Bernard from the movie, that's what she decided to name him.

We had Beethoven almost four years. He was very gentle and affectionate, although he never hesitated to assert his dominance if the other dogs got out of line. I think Beethoven actually believed he was a cat, because he was partly raised by cats...he used to nap on top of the couch and groom the other dogs' ears and underbellies with his tongue. The only times he was ever really aggressive was over the food dish--he had to have the first and the best share, that was non-negotiable. I always thought of him as a mascot of sorts; he appears periodically in the comic, both as this photo in ads and as a recurring character.

Three years ago he was killed, struck by a car crossing the road late at night... we think he was returning home from visiting a girlfriend he had across the way.  Bear stood vigil over the body, walking back and forth, nudging his unresponsive, broken flank with his long nose, sniffing him from one end to the other, almost seeming to carry out some obscure funeral ritual over his friend. The neighbor lady who was helping me wrap Beethoven's body in some plastic garbage bags became annoyed with Bear and tried to shoo him, but I told her, "No. Let him grieve. He needs this."  I knew how close the two had been, virtually inseparable. I really think dogs are able to comprehend death to some degree, and mourn in their own fashion.  I placed him in an old Styrofoam cooler and wheeled the grim improvised coffin out back, setting it amongst the overgrown brush, thorns, and yard waste. The trashman later picked him up, cooler and all, and spirited him away. A good thing; I just wouldn't have had the heart to place my friend on the trash pile and burn him like so much offal.

I miss him a lot.  At times like this, especially, I wish he was still here with us.