In Memorium

When I started this blog, it was with the intention of writing about small objects that were either beautiful in and of themselves, or objects that created "moments of beauty" in our lives. I wanted these objects to be relatively inexpensive and, above all else, accessible. 

My girlfriend and I recently lost a Small Beautiful Thing. Our beloved Westie, Riga passed away two weeks ago. Because she was a dog, I'm somewhat loathe to describe her as a "thing." And because she was our dog, she certainly wasn't accessible. But she certainly was small (more about that in a moment) and she was incredibly beautiful, so I suppose that qualifies her for inclusion in this blog. At least for this one post. 

I consider myself fortunate to have known Riga for the last six years of her life. My girlfriend shared her life and home with her for over fifteen years. Female Westies average about 15 lbs. give or take a few pounds. I suppose that qualifies Riga as a "small" dog. But there was nothing at all small about her personality. 

For the last few years, I had the unenviable chore of preparing Riga's breakfast each morning. I liked to tell people that she had the amazing ability to wake me up at exactly the same time each morning. And what time was that, they'd ask? At exactly whenever the hell o'clock she felt like getting up, would be my reply. I rarely got to sleep past 6:00 am, and often it wasn't much past 5:00am. She would attack my ear with licks and nips. Resistance was futile. I'd drag myself to the kitchen and prepare her breakfast and, since I was already up, my coffee. After a quick tour of the yard, she'd gobble down her breakfast and, no surprise here, go right back to sleep. Of course, by then I'd be wide awake. But I came to treasure those early mornings; drinking my coffee, reading the paper before anyone else in the house was awake, Riga contentedly curled up on the couch next to me. 

When she was awake, Riga had an amazing ability to pose for the camera. She knew when a lens was trained upon her and rarely missed a shot. Back when I was shooting fashion photography, I'd be lucky if even 50% of a model's shots were good. But with Riga, I didn't even need to get her attention by calling her name. She just knew it was picture time. She'd look right at the camera, cock her head and hold it. Shot after shot, you just couldn't miss with that dog! For two years in a row, she appeared in the multi-million copy selling 365 Dogs calendar. 

In some ways, there was nothing extraordinary about this dog. She never rescued anyone from a burning building or performed amazing tricks with a Frisbee. But for anyone who has ever shared their life with a dog and formed that deep and enduring bond that develops between people and their canine friends, their very presence in our lives is endlessly extraordinary. The loss of this little creature from our lives has been so sad and painful. Yes, I'm now sleeping a little later in the morning. But what I wouldn't do for just one more morning with her. Early. Before anyone else in the house wakes up. Just the two of us. Just one more morning.