To all our friends here on the Forums...
You've probably seen by now on the Blog or FaceBook that our beloved companion, Alf the Wonder Beagle, died last night of an undetected and undetectable heart ailment, just two months to the day since we lost Pokke-san the Tailless Manx. We were out for a short dinner with friends when it happened; my Sweetie had dropped me at the recording studio in Evergreen to work for a few hours and gone on home. Alf didn't come to the door, and my Sweetie realized Alf was really sick and raced her down the canyon to an emergency vet in Boulder. Alf had zero blood pressure when she arrived, and despite heroic efforts died in my Sweetie's arms, just the way my Sweetie carried her home from the airport when she came to live with us 12 years ago. The vet said she was never in pain and it was a miracle that she'd lasted as long as she did. Of course, Alf was waiting for us to come home. She would never go without saying good-bye. I would give up all to have been there with her and my Sweetie.
Alf's last day on earth had been perfectly normal, she slept in our bed, demanded her morning affection period, rolled around on the floor and enjoyed a long hike in the snow in the afternoon. She loved to trail in the soft powder, her whole face and her magnificent nose covered with snow.
This morning I got up right at down and opened the window...it had just started snowing, and the fresh snow was filling in Alf's last paw prints down the driveway. I walked to the stairs and I could hear Ripley, our gray parrot, quietly saying "Alf Alf Alf Alf Alf" over and over. He did the same for Pokke. That's how parrots cry. When we got Alf, I warned my Sweetie, who'd never had a dog, that all puppies cry. But Alf never did. One night my Sweetie and I crept down the stairs...Alf was in her crate by Ripley's cage, and Ripley was on the floor of his cage as close to the crate as possible. When Alf would whimper, Ripley would whisper, "That's okay, Alf. Alf is a good bird. It's okay, good bird."
We've always joked that Alf was a "free range beagle," so maybe she's gone off to run with the free rangers. In my heart I believe I will see her again, and Pokke, and all my beloved animals who have shared and enriched my life.
I wanted to say thank you all for your condolences and friendship. I think I woke poor Marshal up at 3AM. It means a lot to me, and I know Alf was proud that so many people shared her adventures, her trials and her triumphs.
As I have said before, she is with the God of All Things. And I love her so much.
Michael B