Tag Archives: bogney

A New Year

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Lost my father.

Lost my dog.

I probably lost more of myself in that mix than I’ve yet begun to process.

Also lost a relationship, but not all losses are loss alone.

Still, the house is lonely, the halls all too quiet.

Perhaps most dangerous of all, I am left entirely to my own devices. That last bit has likely gone on long enough now, and I’d best seek safe harbour lest I be carried away in this self-made torrent.

Not tonight though. It’s the eve of a New Year, and tonight I am well into my cups, trying to reflect on a year best left in the distant rear-view.

We’ll see how far I make it.

Truth is, it’s not an endeavour I relish. I’d burn this year to the ground if given the chance, even if no other was promised.

Still, the next is assured. Fated. Unavoidable.

Will it be better?

Who can say?

But surely now, if faced with similar or worse, I have at least the freedom to react accordingly. To tear my beard and gnash my teeth. To shed my clothes and my name, flee the country, and start anew—distant, dissociated, detached, and terrible.

Yet worse is a hard thing to imagine, and there is still some far-flung hope for better times ahead.

No new me, mind you. The world would be lacking for it. A new world rather—or at least a new way of moving through the old one.

It’s not an impossible dream. There have been some small bits of hope…

My new job is satisfying. Gratifying even, and fun. It’s an opportunity to find new and exciting ways to make a difference, and it’s something I am happy.

‘Meaning Less’ was published this year—even if I took little joy from that accomplishment—and ‘Project: FearNaught’ draws closer to completion each day. These are both points of pride, to be sure.

Could there be a bit more encouragement on the way? I don’t know. Time will tell on that bit.

But it would not suffice to brush over the losses. They each need their time, and with the Jägermeister flowing now, I cannot imagine a time more fitting.

I can only start with Bogney. My dog. My little boy.

I’m not nearly drunk enough yet to touch on the loss of my father. I’m not sure my poor liver could take it.

Bogney was my best friend. My pride and joy. My furry little ball of comfort. He welcomed me home every day, and more often than not roused me with kisses to greet the sun together. He led me on adventures, walks, jogs, and chases. He taught me patience and he kept me honest.

He was a constant source of love, pride, happiness, and spontaneity in a life that was otherwise—by design—rather distant and predictable during that period.

He brought me surprises, affection, and a warm sense of companionship that I miss dearly every day.

I never tried to own a dog…

I wasn’t born with a dog, and I certainly didn’t achieve a dog in any real sense.

Nevertheless, a dog was thrust upon me. I took Bogney in at the end of a failing relationship. I resented the notion at first, but in no time, I loved the dog.

As a puppy, he destroyed two pairs of glasses, and a pair of decent headphones. He also managed to put a fang through my eyelid once when I yanked a bone away from him in jest. He was always the spirited type, and we made for fast friends.

I claimed him in the following breakup, and for 15 years, we were inseparable.

Then, we were separated. But it never started to feel like that, and it still hasn’t. I still reach for him when I wake, and my ears still search for the frantic patter of his paws charging to greet me when I come home from a long day.

They do not come.

They won’t again, and it fucking breaks me. There’s no drink strong enough, no vacation long enough. No amount of time that will suffice to bring back the peace of a single moment with that furry fellow. But I cannot turn back time, and it passes still, and with every second I realize more fully the extent of my losses.

The trend continues.

Another drink.

Another.

One more time if you’d be so kind, good sir.

This bar will be empty before I’m ever ready to finish this essay.

To finish it would be to face that things are finished.

I don’t have that strength.

Maybe next year.

Time will tell…

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney, Part VI- The Final Chapter

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampBushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

 Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

Today, we once again combine the old and the new for a fresh perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

-Click Here for Part I-

-Click Here for Part II-

-Click Here for Part III-

-Click Here for Part IV-

-Click Here for Part V-

Lesson 1:

One quiet winter night, Bogney was sleeping peacefully on the carpet by the door when he was taken by a sudden fit of shakes. Terribly concerned, I took him to the emergency vet. Waiting with terrible trepidation, I thought of the countless memories we had spent over the 15 years we’d known each other. I could not control my tears.

I hoped for the best, but the best did not come. When returned to me, Bogney kissed me happily and wagged his tail with unrestrained joy, heeding no words even as his Doctor described to me the tumour growing in his brain, and the pittance of time he had left. Still in my arms he wiggled and squirmed, eager to leave this boring place.

The years left had become weeks, or months if we were lucky. I thought again of the many moments behind us, and the sparse few we might have left. Somehow, they seemed all the more valuable.

At Bogney’s insistence, we went to the park. True wisdom is often found not in fearing the future, but in living the present.

Lesson 2:

Bogney struggles to move at times these days. He is old and stiff, sometimes disoriented. Rolling over is a struggle now, but when the treats come out, he is instead all the more eager to shake a paw. Undeterred, he finds a way to get what he needs.

We could all learn something from this tenacity.

Lesson 3:

Good days come, and good days pass. Without warning one night, Bogney was taken again by seizures, and was forced to spend a day and a night at the vet. When I was finally allowed to visit him, I found him confused, and his senses dulled. He could not see what was before him, and set his shaking chin in my hands.

Finally, he fell asleep, and his snore was a song of relief. For this moment, he is content.

This is my place. But it is not yet his time.

Lesson 4:

In these days of decline, Bogney and I sleep together on a mattress set on the living room floor. We cannot risk a jump up to any higher bed.

One evening, lying on the mattress, I heard his feet creeping towards me. With his tail wagging and a grin on his face, he happily approached for a kiss, when suddenly his expression changed, and his lips curled in a strange way. His tumour sprang to my mind, and a wave of fear overtook me. Then, Bogney’s mouth gaped open, and he belched loudly in my face. It was long and loud. Both of us stood shocked for a moment, then I laughed, and he resumed with his kisses.

There is great value in a moment such as this.

Lesson 5:

Many months have passed, and the dreaded time has come. Bogney left this world with grace and courage. He kissed me goodbye, then fell asleep in my arms.

For 15 years we walked beside each other. Now our paths are sundered, and I am alone. Alone with everything he gave me.

All these ancient alarms are still going off in my head. Walks to take, food to give, meds to provide. Now to no purpose. Klaxon reminders of a battle with no winning. I am undone, and bereft of battlefields.

The way of the warrior is beyond us now. There is only peace for him now, and in time, myself as well. With his final battle behind him, the wise old dog has taught me who I always was. His final lesson.

I always will remember.

I love you Bogney.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney, Part V

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampBushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

Today, we once again combine the old and the new for a fresh perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

-Click Here for Part I-

-Click Here for Part II-

-Click Here for Part III-

-Click Here for Part IV-

Lesson 1:

When out for a walk, Bogney will occasionally get something stuck in his fur or paw. A thorn, a bur, or the like. Sometimes it may even be a clump of snow knotted painfully in his fur.

When this happens, he will limp, and look up to me for help. Finding the offending item, I will work to disentangle it from his fur. This increases the discomfort, and Bogney will pull away and struggle, which only hurts him more. If he could submit to the moment and be still, it would be over much quicker.

We all act this way sometimes in life.

Lesson 2:

Recently, Bogney had a painful stomach issue, and needed a tightly controlled diet. He needed to eat lots of fibre to get it under control, but because his stomach was hurting, he did not want to eat. Worse, when he did eat, he tried to choose soft, fatty items which were more tempting, but would only worsen his condition.

Often, our what we need and what we desire are very different.

Lesson 3:

Bogney loves to cuddle together with his parents, often ensuring at least part of him is touching each one. However, there are many occasions where his parents will be in different rooms. At these times, he will leave his bed or couch, and lay himself on the floor at the centre-point between their locations.

He sacrifices personal comfort to be as close as possible to both of his loved ones. We all stretch ourselves thin sometimes. This is the way with love.

Now however, the snow flakes are falling, and Bogney is sitting warm in his bed, watching them through the window. The pain of the past is forgotten, and he is content in his present moment.

This perhaps, is his greatest lesson to us. At least for today.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney, Part IV

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampBushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

BogsToday, we once again combine the old and the new for a fresh perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

-Click Here for Part I-

-Click Here for Part II-

-Click Here for Part III-

Lesson #1:

Recently, Bogney took a brave leap—from the top of a couch to the hard ground below. The decision was fearless, but foolish. With a torn ACL, Bogney stood in quiet repose, looking up mournfully at his horrified master.

I had never seen a sight so dreadful. My heart stopped and skin blanched. At this, Bogney became more upset, and limped over to comfort his loved one.

The greatest pain we must endure is watching a loved one suffer. This is true for all beings.

Lesson #2:

Ever since his accident, Bogney walks the same trails at the same speed—when he can get away with it. He does not fear to slip, and would happily leap again if he was allowed.

He walks on three legs for now, but acts as if nothing is different. In each moment, he finds joy just as he ever has. In this, there is wisdom.

Lesson #3:

Now, as he rests his tired muscles on the bed, I watch him at all times. I watch that he doesn’t jump, that he eats enough—I even read his face for signs of pain.

Sometimes he catches me, and smiles up, pleased with his master’s attention.

Sometimes, when I think he is comfortable, I get caught up in something else. Then, I often look back to find him watching me instead.

I smile as well.

At this point in our lessons, I’m afraid Bogney has become enchanted by the sound of the washing machine, and has gone to rest near its rhythmic hum. No doubt this too is well chosen, but for now I will let a sleeping dog lie.

He rests more these days, such is the way with healing. That too passes with time though, and Bogney will no doubt be back soon with more classic canine wisdom.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney, Part III

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Bushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

Today, we once again combine the old and the new for a fresh new perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

-Click Here for Part I-

-Click Here for Part II-

The face of an animal may speak volumes to one who can read it.

As I prepare to leave for another day of work, I look upon the tiny dog I will leave behind. There is a sadness on his face, and it confuses me at first.

I am going to work—but he gets to stay home. Should I not be the sad one? He never has to work, he gets all that he wants provided for him. How can he be sad?

Bogney yawned and stretched. I saw the age in his face.

A thought occurred to me then.

If one human year is 7 dog years, one day must be the equivalent of a dog week.

If so, how similar it is to our own.

Bogney’s day begins with a walk, some play, and food. It is a relaxing joy, much like a Sunday.

This is followed however by a long stretch of time alone. He cannot do what he wants, eat what he likes, see who he wants to see, or go where he wants to go.

He sits, I assume, patiently waiting for this boring stretch of time to end. This is not unlike the work week.

Finally, I return to him, and he resumes with fun and play and food and happiness. This is much like a Saturday.

Suddenly, I understood how similar are the lives of dog and master.

I looked at Bogney anew.

What a somber realization, I thought.

His wise brown eyes agreed.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney, Part II

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Bushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

 Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

Today, we once again combine the old and the new for a fresh new perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

-Click Here for the Original Article-

Lesson #1:

At the start of each morning, Bogney is given his portion of food for the day. When I am out of the house, he will rarely touch it. When I return, he eats it ravenously. This is a clever concept lost on even most people. When earthly pleasures are limited, we must be prudent and careful. When the source of these pleasures is close and there is bounty for all, we must remember to occasionally indulge ourselves.

Lesson #2:

Bogney is a creature of habit, and learns quickly what are the expectations on him, and the proper etiquette for any situation. When at home, he knows his walk times, when to go to the bathroom, and the expected rewards of each. When he is at another residence, this is thrown off. At times such as this, Bogney will divide up his washroom breaks, hoping to be rewarded for each tiny movement. It is a clever trick, but rarely successful.

Nevertheless, he will continue with the ruse whenever the possibility arises. To pursue with creative vigour any potentiality we desire is the mark of an ambitious soul.

Lesson #3:

In the company of his master, Bogney is a model of restraint and composure—entirely content with life, and his place within it. However, on the occasion of company arriving at his home, he becomes cloying—clinging to his master’s leg in a desperate bid for constant attention. We most value the things we have when we can see that they are also valued by others.

At this point in our lessons, I’m afraid Bogney became quite distracted in an effort to catch a piece of dust from the air, and is well beyond any further insights. Perhaps there is some gem of wisdom to draw from this as well, but this writer, for now, will remain content in watching the show.

Fear not though, as soon as the air is cleansed of foreign particles, there is no doubt Bogney will be back with further enlightening anecdotes for us all.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Bushido of Bogney

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampBushido: (武士道) literally meaning “the way of the warrior”, is a Japanese word for the way of the samurai life, loosely analogous to the concept of chivalry in Europe. (Source)

Bogney: A tiny dog, wise for his years.

BogsToday, we combine the old and the new for a fresh new perspective on life through the eyes of our classy canine friend. This is the daily living of a small dog. This is the extrapolated wisdom of the ages…This is the Bushido of Bogney.

Lesson #1:

In seeking to train Bogney to do his tricks, he will often show less and less attention to details as the acts are repeated over many weeks. If I do not pay heed to this, his tricks will grow sloppy, and he will do the bare minimum version of his tricks so that he may get his treat. If, however, I draw the line and deny him his treat for such a lazy attempt, the next time he tries his tricks he will perform them flawlessly. This teaches us about the importance of having high expectations, and how to strive tirelessly towards perfecting a craft.

Lesson #2:

Walking Bogney on his leash, two dogs came running at us from behind a bush. Bogney panicked, and looking to me for help, began to run away from the dogs—in circles around me. He thought that to put me between him and his assailants would be safest, yet by wrapping my legs he made me less able to help him. If he’d only surrendered to my protection, he would have been far better off. We can learn much about faith and trust from this observation.

Lesson #3:

When Bogney is around people, he behaves with directness, confidence, and with complete comfort in himself. His tiny brain may recognize there are some differences between us and him, but with no other option he feels a part of all things. When other dogs approach, the illusion is shattered, and seeing the reality of his separateness, he panics. Many people feel this same panic when others interrupt their inner reflections. Within our own minds, there is a great division between the real world and our perceptions. This is easily broken.

After imparting these gems of knowledge, we regret to inform our readers that Bogney became distracted by a sunbeam, and promptly fell asleep in it, effectively ending our insights into life and time. However he is a tenacious little dog, and we can be certain that following a quick nap and inglorious plea for a treat, he will soon be back to share more timeless wisdom with us.

-Brad OH Inc.