“Carthur. Mr Macarthur. Big Lumpy. Mr. Dopey. Big Dog. Big Boy.
His coat was two sizes too big. And we were relieved he never grew into it.
He stood eye level with the kitchen counters and chin level with the kitchen table. He took up the entire sofa on the sun porch. It was his sofa for as long as he was able to climb on it.
He liked to sing, as long as we joined in. He was happy to see visitors, as long as they didn’t ride motorcycles.
He hated cats. He hated chipmunks. He loved to see Dennis take out the gun. He loved to chase rabbits. Sometimes he caught them, and ate them. He ate raccoons, deer legs, and cow bones. He ate cantaloupe, apple cores, grape tomatoes from the vines, leftovers, popcorn and pancakes. He knew where his treat dish was and reminded us if we failed to provide him with enough.
He stayed in his yard. Defended it as his territory. Prowled the perimeter. He liked to walk to the mailbox, chase cars, and play tag. Playing fetch was beneath his dignity, and ours.
He was stubborn, loyal, belligerent, gentle, silly, smart, lazy, agreeable, and loved. His favorite activity was napping. He was happiest when we were all together in the same place. He hated when we left him, and he was thrilled when we returned. He had a sense of humor and he owned his sense of importance.
He was a companion, and a guardian. He took his role in our lives seriously and joyfully.
He is missed.