The
Lexington Minuteman
A
tribute and plea
http://www.wickedlocal.com/lexington/news/opinions/letters/x637607729/A-tribute-and-a-plea
By
Leslie Goldberg/Woodpark Circle
Posted Oct 22, 2009
@ 05:50 AM
Lexington —
As a dog lover and member
of the Willards Woods subcommittee that addresses “dog issues” there, I have
many arguments for allowing dogs to remain off leash in Willards. Instead, I
will share a personal story that exemplifies the way we dog lovers feel towards
“the Woods.”
Yesterday, my
dearest friend put his 10-year-old Lab, Jack, to sleep after a brief illness.
Jack was a rambunctious, headstrong, devoted lover of life. He was a steadfast
partner — always by my friend’s side, always dedicated and loving.
They went on daily walks
in the Woods, all year round, in any weather. Jack’s youthful energy as he
galloped through the meadow — even as he grew older and arthritic — was
contagious; other dogs could not help but join the game when Jack was there.
My own Golden
Retriever was Jack’s best playmate. For my friend and me, our weekends revolved
around these walks. One of us would make the call and we’d quickly negotiate
some time for relaxation and connection.
As I’d stand in the
meadow waiting for Jack and my friend, my Golden would prick his ears, eager to
join his buddy. Then there Jack would be, rounding the bend at full speed,
goofy grin on his face, panting like a freight train. And off they’d go.
My friend and I
would laugh at their antics, catch up on each other’s lives, share stories and
advice. As the dogs paddled in the pond or chased each other through the trees,
my friend and I would absorb their joy in those woods, and the strength and
comfort of our friendship. Even in the toughest of times, the Woods’ beauty and
solitude — and our dogs — brought us a special peace.
On Jack’s last day,
my friend loaded Jack into a wagon and took him for one final loop through the
Woods. Jack couldn’t run or bark or swim, but my friend told me the dog’s
spirit brightened. He even managed to hobble around once or twice to leave his
mark. That was Jack.
Today, I will take
my own dog for his daily romp. He won’t have his buddy egging him on — and we
will both be looking for Jack around every bend. We won’t see him; yet, he will
be there with us, as sure as every other dog frolicking in the falling leaves.
Please keep the
Woods open to these remarkable friends — who not only relish life, but who help
us understand what it means to be human.