Christmas, cruising in the Bahamas. The happiest time, the happiest place. But not this year. Rigger the boat dog, our happy rescue terrier, is dead.
Karen and I are crushed and sorry. There is no easy time to lose a friend, but at Christmas in the Bahamas, with children on board for the holidays, it’s hard. Widget, Rigger’s addled Jack Russell boat buddy, explores the halls and holds of Largo looking for her friend. She won’t find him.
A toxic bit of beach junk, perhaps a sea cucumber, took him quickly. Paralysis, seizures, and death came soon. He was unconscious. He did not suffer. Karen and I were with him, and though we have the tools and skills for most emergencies, there was no time on this remote island.
He rests above Rigger Beach now, a quiet place he was happy to explore and visit. We will come back to see him often, and drink to his gentle soul. We laid a marker, said some words. “Congratulations on your passing. Job well done. It’s up to us now.” A eulogy first said for my father, it has blessed all of our family members since, and served us well.
You are with the ages, happy little chap. You made us better. You deserved more.
