Despite the beauty of this lush and gentle Spring, we felt some weight of sadness, and Monday brought worse. Jane’s beloved Gus was found to have a large, inoperable abdominal tumor. A late afternoon veterinary appointment led to the wrenching decision to let Gus go. Not what any of us had expected.
Gus was a Labrador mix, found, with other pups, in a ditch, if I remember correctly. Jane’s son, James, adopted and named him. When James’ life changed, Gus moved to Winfield Farm to become Jane’s most exuberant and constant companion. Such a lucky dog to spend his life in the country! He kept watch over the place, and will be missed by all of us, who loved to see him on duty and appreciated his indomitable enthusiasm. He was the youngest of Jane’s four dogs. His loss is devastating, atop all the others. He returned home to be buried on the now crowded east side, the fifth burial we have had since December.
To compensate for the gloom, birds are gracing us with color and song.
Speaking of consolation, let’s not forget bumblebees. Here is an industrious creature on the white lilacs. I love these peaceful pollinators. We use as few chemicals as possible around here, and we are blessed with many bees.
Bart rested on Monday, and Rebecca came to help with the garden, bringing us delicious, beautiful Marans eggs, and some delicate little late daffodils, along with her hard work and fun. Bad news from Jane ended the day, but Rebecca is always a source of kindness and joy.
Life, of course, goes on. Harry and I have had a bit of a social whirl this week, which has subsided now. We are fortunate indeed in our friends. And we are very glad to count Fred a friend. He keeps our horses shod and sound. Fred’s visits at six week intervals are always welcome, both for the beautiful work he does, and for his camaraderie. We had plenty of laughs, which provided comfort.
Harlan, too, is a friend, and provides some consolation, filling the area with joviality as he empties the dumpster.
Weedy continues to spread sweetness and light wherever he goes, and thanks to Harry, he goes lots of places.
Roscoe and Nettie shared some comfort on the sofa.
Meanwhile, Rosie has inherited Mistletoe’s “star bed”, which she loves.
Harry is, as always, the greatest solace of all in difficult times.
Jane and I got a rather wet ride in this afternoon, between downpours.
Bart says “goodnight”. We have our last jump school tomorrow before the Old Ladies Horse Showing adventure begins next week…
Be safe, be well. Slava Ukraini! Peace.
Birds extraordinaire help the huge sadness of so many losses, and now Jane’s dear Gus is gone from this physical maya here on earth. Jane surely has my prayers and condolences. Here’s some happiness, Linda and I just had the best time together, along with Etta who was beside herself with joy, and Dobbie exploring the wilds of my back yard. Dear Life, we take your tolls and your gifts. Slava Ukraini.
Oh no, not Gus! 🙁
I am so so so sorry about Gus’s passing. He reminds me of Walton whose portrait by you is on my livingroom coffee table. So much intelligence, as well as gratitude and devotion in Gus’s gaze. II hope Gus gets a successor at your place, Jane. Again, I am sorry for your loss.
So sorry to hear of another loss. Sudden, unexpected loss is always such a shock, like a kick in the guts. Not something you ever get used to and we wouldn’t want to, of course. God speed Gus.
I envy you such a variety of birds. We have only seen an oriole once, apparently he dropped by in transit to somewhere else. We have only ever had one towhee at a time and his visits are rare now. grosbeaks unseen for months. Maybe we have too many sparrows. Well we enjoy them too and all are welcome.
My regards and sympathy to Jane especially and to you of course. Harry’s smile is always good to see!
Dogs. We love them so, and they love us, unconditionally. Much missed.
Anne, Please tell Jane how sorry I am about Gus. Our beloved animals leave us too soon.