Dear Mister:
If you find this tin can and you are reading this letter you are looking at a true American treasure. Here lie my remains. I was one of the most beautiful, lovable, faithful, Golden Retrievers ever. Flowing light golden hair, flat head, big tail, massive chest, huge paws, red bandana, the works. Heh, it’s the truth! What can I say? My family told me this all the time.
My name was Bogard, or Sir Bogard Lord of the Forest, or just plain Bo. I lived and ruled this back yard, and the entire neighborhood for that matter, including the forests, (before they built it up) for 14 years. I lived from 10/27/90 to 03/25/04. I was born in Atlanta and brought to Augusta when I was 6 weeks old, in a shoebox, of all things. My first name was Hulk, cause my father was Hogan and my mother Amber. Hulk Hogan, get it? Well, maybe not? It's a 90's thing. I was my mothers first born, the big boy, the stud, pick of the litter. My owners were George (daddy) and his wife Jeanette (mommy), their son Jeff, who never married was my brother. They all loved me a lot. Daddy died in 1999. That left just me, mommy, and Jeff.
We all had a big time. We would all eat such good food from the table. Mommy was a good cook and I was the consummate beggar. I used to slow roll this family daily. I mean I had it worked out to a science. I worked the table three times a day. The beg, the eyes, the breath, the whine, the sniff, the paw tap, the whole routine baby, I was a pro. My best weight was a lean and powerful 100 pounds, and I was 74 pounds the day I died. Sorry, can't credit the Atkins diet either. (What would you know about the Atkins diet? If you are reading this, what might you be eating???… well… who knows what? How about those crunchy crackers I like? Do you have any of them? Do you? Huh? Do you? Please, please, please, please!)
I loved to swim. I once swam almost the whole way across the Chatahochcee River in Atlanta. My brother Jeff took me swimming. In fact, he took me my first time. He said when I hit the water for the first time it was like a light bulb going off in my head. Baby, I knew what I was born to do, and it wasn't just splashing around. I was a swimming machine. So, swimming and eating with a little ball playing thrown in were some of my favorite things to do. I really liked to swim out after balls or better yet a stick when they would go way out in the water… far away. I would bring them back and go get them again. How much fun is that? Swimming made me happy and my heart would sing. Speak about singing. Just get me around a birthday cake and I would sing my heart out. I always made everyone laugh, a true entertainer.
I liked my morning walks. Around the block, up to the church sometimes, maybe a swim at Spring Lake for a bath once in a while. I liked the forest romps too. Good stuff. Lots of targets. I loved my life here. I had it made, my friend. Big time under the sun. I loved the backyard patrol. It was my paradise. I would run mommy ragged opening the door. In and out, all day long. Mark turf here, a little there, keep off my pad brother, watch out! You know the drill. Outside was my friend, but I lived inside. Air conditioning, ahhh, hot time in Georgia, not for me bud. You know, a dog has got to stay cool, right? I loved a big snooze, in the middle day, right where everybody walked. That way I didn't miss the action. The dog hot summer days of Georgia are a good time to sleep… Get your walk in early and relax.
In the last years of my life, I grew tired, and my bones ached. I could not breathe well. The things I once did with ease, I could hardly do anymore. Climbing the stairs made me stop and ponder. Jeff, my brother, said my last lap around the block, i.e., on my own four feet, was my best effort. I almost didn't make it. I had to stop once, but I gutted it out. Jeff and I talked about this the last month of my life, he said it showed heart, "We made it Bo", Right?? Right. (Oh my aching legs) Right?? "My tail, right"
What else can I say? My life came to an end. That's life. I had many years of love and good times with my "pack family". One day, my last, mommy and brother took me to my vet friend. There was lots of touching, crying, talking, many kisses, and the old paw shake. Always a crowd pleaser. Believe me, I was ready. I could not breathe and walking was a chore. In fact, pinching a loaf was a sweet dream, if you know what I mean. I walked to the rear car door that morning, just to let them know, "I'm ready."
With the sweet smell of spring in the morning air, we took one finial lap around the block, and the church grounds, my favorite place to run. This last time was in the car, with mommy and me in the back seat, and Jeff in the front. We went slowly, with the windows open, and our car lights were turned on in the middle of the day. I perked up and loved the views. This was my life. I loved the experience, and my life. We got to the vet, and I tried to walk around, but I couldn't. We sat outside for a while and we all just looked at each other. There was some talk, but mostly looking. The vet walked outside and he and my family talked, with most of the sentences ending with question marks. The Dr. looked me over, and felt me up and down. He spoke in a soft voice and looked to mommy and Jeff, there was compassion and love in their eyes.
One last drink of cool water from a shinny metal dish that looked something like mine in miniature. I had the deluxe double jumbo at home, you know. Boy was that water good… They walked me in the office, (I loved that place) and mommy and I talked. I tried for the old hand shake but couldn't. I slipped on the tile floor and brother came and put me back on my feet again. Mommy and I touched again and our eyes met, as they had daily for so many years. Jeff walked in the exam room first and he called to me, as he had so many times before. I walked in the room on my own, and laid down on a blanket of many colors (one of those Mexican jobs with the tassels), Jeff helped me to center my body on the blanket and held my head in his hands, as I stretched out my body against the baseboard . There was lots of crying. Jeff had been talking to me about this for a couple of months. The Dr. gave me a shot, just like he had many times before, I quickly but quietly drew my last breath in secret, as Jeff and I looked into each others eyes, and I was gone….
I remember hearing these last words…"Go to God, Go to God Bo."
The vet pronounced me dead, and Jeff fixed my body as he gently removed my red bandana, my trademark. For some reason I always loved that thing. After a bath I could not wait to get a clean one. I felt naked without it, I guess. Well… in a few minutes my family gathered their belongings, walked slowly to the car, and they left me there alone. Can you imagine that?
They put my body in a hot place later that afternoon and my body went all over the grounds, in the back by the place with lots of little stones, all in rows, just ever so perfect. I mean it went everywhere. They put my ashes in this black box, and the next day mommy and Jeff came to pick me up. They took me on that walk I could not make the day before back by the little stones. The sweetest smell was in the air, and the sunlight danced through the trees. A breeze blew ever so perfect, and all you could say was, isn't this beautiful. They put me in the car, drove me around the block one last time and put me in the house. Home again….thank you. I was there in the house for a few days and then they put my box in this tin can, a "Charles Chips" can, which was my food container, very important, and buried me in this spot, right here where you are standing. I must say they spruced it up a little, it looks so much better. I used to wet this place up good. The white stones are a nice touch… The flowers, ahh… you know what I think about them… let me at em'. And that's that….
I have a few things to say in closing….
One, I love you all. Thanks for all you did for me. Especially helping me die. I wanted to go, I hurt, bad. Don't cry for me, my spirit is now free. I outlived my immediate dog family by years, and I lived much longer than the average for my breed. Thank you for your excellent care and all you did for me. Fish and potatoes was the trick…Thanks, I love you, (lick) all right already!!
Two, we will meet again. Daddy, Uncle Ed and I are having a good time. My legs work good again and everything. There is a good-looking female up here and I think were... well. Don't worry mommy, I will do it right, things work a little different up here now… I'll explain it to you later. Maybe a family is in the future? Remember this isn't the end, it's a new start.
Three, and I'm done. If you find this letter in this tin can, rest assured that something went wrong. My family would never leave my remains here if they moved. So… mister. Please put my remains in a good place and give me a burial somewhere else… cause you are looking at the remains of the most loved, faithful, beautiful Golden Retriever ever. My family thanks you and so do I.
Thank you all, I leave you only love.
Bogard
P.S. There is a picture enclosed so when we meet again you will know what I look like. Pretty sporty, eh? Best ever, right? You know, one good turn deserves another. Catch you on the other side… got to go.
