Sat 18 Dec, 2004 11:49 am
Ah, Admiral Byrd, you were fourteen and lived a long and loved life. You survived being hit by a car; being shot at and hit; and always came back.
For my daughter's American Eskimo, the last of the litter of eight, and in remembrance of my crazy Domino.
Tough old buddy. Nice tribute, Letty, sorry for the loss.
You know, LittleK, my son and I had an interesting discussion about eternal life as found in the molecules that radiate from demised things. They all become a part of a leaf; a tree; a flower; In looking at fresco's thread about Anthony Flew, I begin to think of that. Perhaps Admiral Byrd has become a part of Whitman's leaves of grass. <smile>
I feel no sadness, strangely. How could one be down when that dog brought such furry delight to all who knew him.
I like your medical/chemical approach to immortality. You provide a glamour that is lacking with Caesar's dust stopping a bunghold.
May your Admiral always be a source of joyous memories.
Three cheers and a couple of woofs for the eternal Admiral Byrd.
What a wonderful name for a dog to live with.
Thanks Noddy and ehBeth. Ad Byrd (shortened the name) was a special little woofer. <smile>
Sorta looked like Bailey, only snow white with a black muzzle.
Love to all